Duelling for life
by Siff15
Summary: Salem University's duelling program faces problems. What better way to alleviate them than by hiring the best traditional duelist in town, Draco Malfoy. He has bigger plans in mind and invites his best friend and one of his childhood nemeses to assist. Has he changed for the better? How have the last 12 years treated our favourite Slytherin, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger?
1. Chapter 1

**Duelling for life**

 **Author's notes: I've been an avid reader of for some time now and I've decided to throw my hat into the ring as well. :) This is a longer story and it will develop slowly. There will be mature content and original characters. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not profitting from this and am simply playing around with the characters and established world of J.K. Rowling for fun. Don't sue me. It ain't worth it. ;P**

Chapter 1

The campus of the Salem Wizarding University was uncommonly empty. Yes, it was between semesters, but normally students would stay over the holidays to study or to work on extra projects. Lionel Jameson took this in with sad eyes. His old alma mater had changed. In his day, the campus was alive at all times of the year. The decline of the institution had begun a decade after he'd gotten his degree. One of the major, distinguishing courses had been the duelling team. Regularly the team had won championships throughout the country. This had led to the university receiving attention and donations. After the coach had quit under suspicious circumstances rumoured to be the machinations of a new dean, the team's performance had slipped. The new coach not even approaching the level of the old one. The new dean, Henson, also managed to antagonise half the professors at Salem, leading to them all quitting almost at the same time. The new ones Henson hired didn't have the same expertise or standing. Within eight years, Salem University had fallen from grace in the eyes of most heavy-weight donors and as such, had been removed from the list of the top five universities in the country. This obvious failure to lead, had led to Henson being fired from his position by the board of directors. The new dean was why Lionel was here. In his eighteen years away from university he had made a name for himself in the field of Astronomy. Lionel didn't envy the new dean, Anthony McPherson, his job. The board expected him to once again bring Salem on the map. And that within a few years. For that to work, almost all professors had to be exchanged with competent ones, since Henson had mainly hired old friends of his, who barely fulfilled the requirements necessary for teaching. Amazingly McPherson had made tremendous progress. Only two or three professors from Henson's reign remained. Among them the duelling coach.

Today Lionel had been asked to assist McPherson in finding a replacement. Lionel wondered why, since he had no experience in duelling. He wouldn't know a good one from a bad one. With this in mind, he entered the dean's office. McPherson was seated behind his giant rosewood desk, which was barely visible under all the documents upon it. The dean was a slim, almost gaunt man, with brown hair, greying at the temples and modern glasses with steel rims. His robes were austerely black and conservative. Lionel preferred muggle clothes. They were easier to wear and easier to blend in when he left the wizarding districts.

"You asked for me, sir?" Lionel asked while taking a few steps into the office. McPherson looked up from his paperwork and indicated for Jameson to take a seat in one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk.

"Yes, Professor Jameson. Please take a seat. You are surely wondering why I asked you to come." Lionel nodded.

"Yes, sir. That thought had crossed my mind." He admitted and arranged himself within the chair. McPherson leaned back and steeped his fingers.

"It is easily explained. Your family is well-known and you are a member of the Jupiter Gentlemen's club. I have heard from reliable sources that likely candidates for the post of duelling coach are also members there. Though I know that you have no interest in duelling yourself, I would like you to do some research and keep an open ear. Have a look around, if you will. Nothing untoward, I assure you. I would simply like to know if there is someone there, who would be interested in the position and has the necessary qualifications." Lionel nodded slowly, a plan already forming in his mind. He had a friend at the club, who he met regularly for a game of chess. This friend was also an avid duelling fan. The rankings and championship results were as familiar to him as the back of his hand. He was an ideal consultant, since Lionel had no idea if a duellist was good or simply had luck on his side.

"I believe I can help. Though I do not understand much about duelling myself, I have an acquaintance at the club, who will be happy to assist me. He has been trying to get me interested in duelling for years." McPherson and Lionel shared a smile at that. "But don't you think that Giles will attempt to counteract your replacing him?" This had both their smiles vanish. Giles had been Henson's boyhood friend and both had been in the same fraternity. Throughout school they had always stuck together. Ever since Henson had been fired, Giles had made it his mission to give McPherson as much grief as possible.

"Maybe, maybe not. However as things stand right now, I will have to run this risk. The duelling team was once the very best in the country. Now it's nothing more than an excuse for bullies to band together. The team hasn't won a single tournament of any importance in the last years. The board has made it one of its stipulations that the team be brought back to its former glory. This is why I need a replacement for Giles. The very best I can possibly get."

This discussion was what led him to a part of the Jupiter club he'd never visited before. Greg was overjoyed that their weekly meeting was to take place in the observation lounge of the duelling hall. A little uncomfortably Lionel sat at a cafe table in front of the big panorama windows. Below several duelling carpets held men duelling as a form of sport. There was also a duelling arena to the side for freestyle duelling. It was rarely used, since the members of the Jupiter club prided themselves on their traditional duelling. Lionel had come early to watch and get acclimatised. He'd also read up on duelling not to appear completely ignorant. As he listened in on the conversations around him, he felt progressively uncomfortable. Everyone around him seemed to be experts on duelling. They knew the moves the men below executed and the magic they worked. Lionel hadn't even heard of the hexes they discussed. Sinking a little lower in his chair, he turned his glass of bourbon with two fingers, hoping that Greg would turn up soon.

As if summoned by Lionel's thoughts, Greg bounced up to the table, taking a seat opposite Lionel.

"Hello Lionel. Man! I never thought I'd see the day you would finally show an interest in duelling. It's kind of weird actually. Since you like chess and all." With a wave of his hand Greg flagged down one of the waiters, who seemed to know him well, since he didn't come over to take an order, but brought a filled glass. "Thank you, Thomas." Lionel waited until the waiter had gone, before leaning closer to his friend.

"It's...not exactly that, Greg. Sorry. Dean McPherson is looking for a new duelling coach and he knew that the Jupiter club has a tradition of duelling. I'm however not an expert in duelling and wouldn't know a good one from a bad one. That's where you come in. You're an expert, Greg. You know everything there is to know about duelling. I need your help and expertise. Will you help me find a good duellist for the university?" Grinning Greg sat back, rubbing his hands.

"So this is like a spy mission? How exciting!" Lionel could only smile at his friend's enthusiasm.

"Not that James Bond, I fear. We sit here, watch the duellists below, have a bite to eat and you tell me, who is worth more than a look." Huffing Greg sat back, obviously a little disappointed.

"Fine. Be that way." He took a look out the window. "The ones down there aren't really worth looking at. The better ones will come later. Let's get that bite to eat you spoke of." And with that, he once more flagged the waiter.

For the next two hours they sat watching and talking. Duellists came and went and Greg did his best to point out the finer points to Lionel. It still didn't make much sense to Jameson, but he was once more impressed with his friend's knowledge. With time, Lionel had relaxed. It was obvious that no one would make fun of him not being privy to the intricacies of duelling. In fact, some others were receiving similar introductions from their respective companions. This relaxation fled Lionel immediately, when Greg sat up straight in his chair and practically pressed his face to the window.

"Wow! What the heck is **he** doing here?!" Greg almost whispered to himself. Lionel tried to spot what had excited his friend so. It was quite obvious, since there also was a commotion going on among the duellists below. A group of men had entered the hall and front and centre stood a tall man with a gaudy, golden cloak and haughty expression. The men around him were wearing cloaks similar to his.

"Who is that?" Lionel asked silently. Greg turned to him with wide eyes.

"That is just about the most successful duellist of the last two years. He's never lost a duel. That, my friend, is Gordon Jenson. Uncontested duelling world champion." Confused Lionel creased his brow.

"What's he doing here then?" Greg's face stretched into a smile that seemed almost manic.

"He's looking for a 'worthy opponent'. In my opinion, he's lost his touch with reality. But on the other hand, he's never been defeated, so I guess a little hubris is understandable." Tilting his head, Lionel studied Jenson. The longer he watched the man, the more he got a feeling that Jenson was bad news. A man so convinced of his own invincibility was dangerous. Especially if he was defeated sometime around.

"I bet he's here because of the Brit." Lionel sat back.

"The Brit? Who're you talking about?" Greg chuckled and turned back to his friend.

"Boy, you never look around much when you're here, do you? The Brit! You can't miss him. He practically oozes money, is always accompanied by a squib butler...All the guys owe him money! My God, Lionel. You had to have heard something. He's about six-one to three, elegant clothes, hair almost seeming white it's so blonde." Waving with his hands, Greg waited for Lionel to finally get it. At last, a light ignited in Lionel's eyes.

"Oh him! Yeah, I've seen him from time to time. Didn't really seem all that approachable." Greg shook his head and chuckled.

"All that stargazing has made you soft in the head. He's reserved, as most Brits. I've heard from Murray that he comes from old money, which increases his reticence to speak to others. And he's the best traditional duellist I've ever seen. I bet Jenson has heard about him somehow and has come to challenge him. Bad only for him, that the Brit never accepts challenges. And he's very picky about who he duels with. Some of the guys down there have been asking him for years. Almost every duellist worth his salt is itching to go a round or two with him. He's never lost. In fact, he's training with the former world champion almost every week and Holbrook has yet to get the drop on him. Two reasons for Jenson to show up. One, the champion who has a better track record than him and two, the great unknown duellist, who's never competed, but can easily defeat anyone on the carpet. It would only increase his ego tenfold." Lionel shook his head.

"Wow. I never thought there was this much going on here at the Jupiter." Greg chuckled.

"You have no idea, old boy. Let's get a little closer to the window. This is going to be good."

Jenson looked around with a practised sneer. It wasn't that the duelling hall wasn't up to scratch or anything. In fact it was much better equipped than most he'd seen over the years. The darkly gleaming wooden floors and the glittering, heavy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling spoke of the club's long tradition and the amount of money necessary in your account to become a member. This, among other things, was what had Jenson sneer. He'd grown up in a higher middle-class family with a decent income, but they'd never been rich. Not as rich, as Gordon wanted to be in any case. And he still wasn't. This was why he had started duelling. It was by far the easiest way to get rich and famous fast, without having to actually work for it. He'd soon realised that he had a talent for duelling and he'd used it to his advantage. Despite his titles and all the money he'd made, he still wanted more. He wanted to be known as the best of all time. The undisputed champion, whose record would never be broken. To realise this goal however, he had to defeat the former champion. Holbrook had quit duelling, before Jenson had been high enough in the ranks to challenge him. He'd fumed when the news of Holbrook's retirement from duelling had come. It meant that he would never be able to defeat Holbrook officially. That was his current mission. To make it absolutely certain to anyone that **he** , Gordon Jenson was the undeniable number one. His manager had told him not to make too much of it, but Gordon was a man on a mission. He was going to be a legend by the time he was thirty. Walking confidently, he approached one of the members of this 'club'.

"You. Where is Holbrook?" He demanded. The older man raised his eyebrows at the rude mode of address.

"Excuse me? Why exactly should I tell you anything?" He asked and dabbed his neck with a towel. Jenson hated men like the one across from him. Entitled, rich asses. They had what he wanted. Money and power.

"Because I am here to defeat the undefeated champion." He answered smugly. The older man chuckled and shook his head.

"You're too late for that, boy. Holbrook regularly gets his ass handed to him. Not that he minds. Comes back every week for more." This puzzled Jenson. He'd never heard about this. A man who defeated Holbrook on a regular basis? Why had he never heard about this? It should have been all over the news. For that matter, his staff should have known. With an angry glint in his eye, he turned to one of the men standing behind him. He swallowed, but otherwise didn't let anything on about his failure. It wouldn't do for anyone to notice dissension among them. They needed to portray a united front.

"Who is this man then, who defeats the former champion on a regular basis?" Gordon asked snarkily. The club member grunted and grinned.

"Don't waste your time, boy. He wouldn't fight you. He's quite picky about it. Most of us here are waiting for our opportunity to get beat, so get in line." This answer angered Gordon even more and his aides had to hold him back, before he challenged the wrong man. No use to waste his energy. His attention was quickly redirected to the duel hall entrance. His target had just arrived. James Holbrook was received with greetings from all sides. He seemed to be well-liked among the other members of the club. They didn't rush up to him, asking for autographs or anything, but seemed much more like casual acquaintances. He seemed like one of the guys and Holbrook seemed to like it. Gordon could only sneer at this. What was the point of being famous, if no one treated you accordingly? Striding confidently through the hall, Gordon placed himself squarely in Holbrook's path.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Holbrook asked confused. Grinning haughtily, Gordon flipped his cloak over his right shoulder.

"I am Gordon Jenson and I have come here to challenge you, James Holbrook." Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Holbrook put his arms akimbo.

"Listen...Gordon. I'm not interested. I stopped duelling for any kind of fame or money a long time ago. I am only duelling now to keep in shape and keep sharp. Sorry. Also, I am meeting a friend and I don't intend to waste any energy on anyone else. I may have some time later in the week. Ask me then." He clapped Gordon's shoulder and simply passed him by. As if he was some of the other people present and not the reigning world champion. Gob-smacked Jenson couldn't move for a minute. Shaking his head he turned angrily towards Holbrook. His anger only increased, when he heard some of the other men chuckling openly.

"Now wait just a minute!" Jenson exclaimed and followed after Holbrook, who had started to stretch. A fact which had Jenson and his men stop in his tracks. Was this some kind of joke or distraction tactic? Judging from the reaction of the other duellists within the room it didn't seem so. Some of the other duellists were stretching as well. What in blazes was that about? This distraction stopped Jenson long enough for Gordon's partner to arrive. Clothed in spotless duelling garb; a white, cross-stitched chest piece with golden monogram, black sleeves and high collar, along with black slacks and rubber-soled boots. Right behind him was a middle-aged man in a conservative pinstriped, black suit, carrying a bag, also monogrammed with his master's initials. Jenson watched this with envy in his eyes. Without any effort on the Brit's side, all other duellists made way for him. Jenson didn't know whether it was his forbidding mien or the almost royal stance, but he wanted that kind of influence himself. Before Jenson could initiate a conversation, Holbrook saw the Brit as well.

"Mr Malfoy. On time as always." With a smile, he extended his hand for a shake. The now named Malfoy shook the proffered hand and his manservant set the bag down and started to set up refreshments, a chair and folded towels onto the bench. The towels were also monogrammed beautifully in gold thread, complete with an elaborate family crest. All this had Jenson's envy only increase.

"Mr Holbrook. How do you do? I hope you did not have to wait long?" Smiling widely, Holbrook shook his head.

"I am doing fine, thank you and no. I just arrived myself. Will you be ready in twenty minutes?" Malfoy inclined his head.

"Very well. I had carpet two booked for us. Is this agreeable to you?" Holbrook smiled, while shaking his head. His partner's old world manners and charm had Holbrook always a little self-conscious. His manners weren't nearly as polished, but then, others had an easier time approaching him than Malfoy. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing Malfoy with anyone else. Sure, many approached him, asking favours or wanting to be seen with him. None just wanted to know him. Not like Holbrook. He was fascinated by the Brit and wanted to come to know the person behind the money and the influence. It was an almost constant uphill battle, but James could understand Malfoy's reticence. Nevertheless he thought that the trouble was worth it. His technique was sublime and his style was absolutely perfect. Something Holbrook was attempting to copy. He was training almost every day, even though his wife didn't like that all that much. He'd stopped duelling because he wanted to spend more time with her. Especially since their son was growing so fast and he'd missed them immensely while on the road. He now had a cushy job at his brother-in-law's book shop and was home at regular hours. It had improved his family life greatly and he was enjoying all the small moments with his son, he'd previously missed. Shaking his head a little, he looked over to his partner. Malfoy had done a split and was bent over one of his legs, his nose touching his knee. James was amazed at the man's flexibility. It had taken him weeks of training to just get a split done. Grinning he continued with his own exercises.

Soon the other members of the club gathered around the two of them. James didn't mind. He was used to an audience and Malfoy didn't even seem to see them. This was also something that James admired. Malfoy could be standing in the midst of a crowd and act as if he was completely alone and on his own. At some of the club functions he actually ignored most people walking up and talking to him. It was almost as if Malfoy didn't give a damn about what others thought of him. An attitude James had never been able to adopt. It would probably have been healthy in view of his very public career, but he'd always worried what others might think of him. It had almost bent him out of shape, constantly thinking of what others might perceive from his actions or his words. After meeting Malfoy, he'd tried to assume some of the same attitude, but James was too sensitive a man to carry through.

Out of the corner of his eye, James could already see bets being exchanged. They were not betting on who would win, since it was par for the course that James lost. No, they were betting on how many spells he got off, before Malfoy blew him off the carpet. He had one of the serving boys place bets for himself. There was no reason why he couldn't make a few bucks while getting his ass whooped.

"Are you going to duel sometime today?" Jenson's anger-tinged voice cut through the friendly, low-key conversation going on around them. Malfoy raised his upper body from touching his toes. The calm, superior glance he threw Jenson was crippling. It had all Jenson's lackeys take a step back, while Jenson could feel his legs turning shaky.

"And who might you be?" Malfoy asked in his distinguished British English. This comment had anger once more flaring in Jenson's chest, solidifying his stance.

"I happen to be the reigning duelling world champion." He stood tall, puffing out his chest. Malfoy took a long look at him from top to bottom.

"Truly?" He looked over to James. "It seems the standards have been slipping since you quit the circuit, Mr Holbrook." At this the other club members started chuckling. Even the servers had smirks on their faces. This angered Jenson even more. How dare they?! James sensing a confrontation coming decided to intercede.

"I do not know about that, Mr Malfoy. Shall we?" He indicated the platform with the duelling carpet, before getting up himself and getting into position. Malfoy brushed past Jenson as if he wasn't there and got into position himself. Facing off, both presented their wands and bowed. While James simply tilted his upper body, Malfoy executed an elegant, elaborate bow. Malfoy's manservant raised a muggle camera to tape the duel. The club members were used to this by now, but at first, this had been met with confusion. By now it was an adopted practice among most of the members of the duelling section of the club, to tape duels and to analyse them later. Jenson and his lackeys however didn't seem familiar with this and were snickering. This earned them head-shakes and derogatory comments. Before Jenson could react to this insult, Holbrook started his first attack. His attack was a flawless Kurov opening. Strong and quick. Three spells in quick succession were fired from Holbrook. The first was more of a flim-flam to distract, then a stunner, followed by a fireball. Jenson had to grudgingly admit that Holbrook indeed was good. Of course not as good as him, but good nonetheless. Grinning he turned to the arrogant British bastard, expecting him to be at the end of the carpet. He wasn't. In fact, he didn't seem to have moved an inch. His wand arm was relaxed at his side, as if he hadn't moved it at all. Jenson was gob-smacked Such an attack, executed this quick and without any mistakes, would even have put him a few steps back. Malfoy inclined his head a little, while Holbrook seemed to pale a little, gripping his wand tighter.

"An excellent opening, Mr Holbrook. I see that you have been practising. My turn." For the first time since he'd entered, a smile broke out on Malfoy's face. It wasn't a nice one though. It was an aggressive one. Holbrook steadied his stance and then his opponent seemed to explode into movement. One moment he was perfectly poised and still, the next he was flowing along the carpet. There was no other way to describe it. Jenson could only stare. He realised with a sinking feeling that he wouldn't be able to even scratch this man's talent. His ego however wouldn't let this realisation take. Holbrook was out of form. This had to be why Malfoy had such an easy time. After two more switches, the duel was over. Holbrook was sweating profusely and seemed completely exhausted. Malfoy on the other hand seemed not even out of breath. He sat in the folding chair his man-servant had set up for him, dabbing his neck with one of the pristine towels. Holbrook sat slumped down next to him on a bench. One of the servers had draped a towel over his shoulders, while another member of the club offered him sips from a cold drink. Servers were distributing the wins from the numerous bets. When Holbrook received his own share, Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Betting on yourself now? You may want to watch who sees it. Some may infer that you fix the duels so that you win." Both men chuckled.

"I don't think any of the others mind. Getting beat every week has to have one positive aspect." The other club members listening in laughingly agreed. The server next to Holbrook smiled excitedly.

"It was a good duel, Mr Holbrook. I believe Mr Malfoy had to work to win this time." Holbrook nodded at the young boy. Among the servers straws were drawn to choose, who got to work the floor when Holbrook and Malfoy were duelling. The tips were great and they got a cut from the bets, since they collected them, kept the scoreboard and handed out the wins, off which they received a portion for their services. The server attending them was rudely shoved to the side by Jenson, who felt he had been ignored enough.

"If the two of you are done congratulating yourselves, I want my duel now. A challenge has been made by me in front of witnesses. Get up Holbrook and let's get this over with." The server got back up and stood his ground in front of Jenson.

"I am sorry, sir. As you can see Mr Holbrook just finished a demanding duel and is in no condition to answer your challenge. Please enjoy the other comforts our club has to offer and I am sure that Mr Holbrook will get back to you concerning a new date and time for the duel." Jenson's anger exploded at how this kid dared to speak to him. He was the world champion! How dare this insolent little whelp address him in this manner?! With a swish of his wand and a quickly spat incantation, the server was flung across the room. Impacting with the opposite wall hard. If some still had been occupied with their own business, now all had their attention on Jenson. And not in a good way.

"Do I have your attention now? I will not wait. I have come all this way from Los Angeles and I will not leave before I haven't had my duel! Is that clear?!" He demanded in a loud voice. Holbrook's face had darkened considerably. Forgotten were the little aches all over his body and the fatigue. Allen was a good kid. Forget that everything he'd said was true. Jenson was going to pay for this.

"That was very unwise of you." The coldness of the voice had everyone stop. Holbrook turned to Malfoy. What he saw had him take a step back. Never in his life had he seen anyone with a look in his eye as his duelling partner. Malfoy looked forbidding on a normal day, but now, he looked positively frightening. Jenson seemed also to realise that he had unleashed something none of them possibly knew how to deal with. The room's temperature seemed to drop a few degrees and the light started to dim. The darkness seemed to coalesce around Malfoy, while the silver in his eyes grew in intensity.

"You wanted to duel, then let's duel. I doubt that anyone will interfere." He spoke in a low voice, but it carried into every corner. Lithely he jumped up onto the duelling platform he'd just used. Jenson looked unsure and threw the others around him glances.

"Get up here!" The thunderous demand was made even scarier by Malfoy's facial expression. It was hard and forbidding. There was no indication of mercy there. "You wanted a duel. I, Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy challenge you, Gordon Jenson. Fight me, or forfeit your title!" This challenge quick started Jenson's ego. No one spoke to him like that. No one! Clenching his jaw tight, he shed his cloak and jumped onto the platform himself.

"You will regret this, Malfoy. I am not champion for nothing. I'll end you!" Malfoy's mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.

"Is that so? Less talk and more action, cretin." Both men approached each other with long strides. They met in the middle and stood nose to nose, staring into each other's eyes. The room was charged with hostility and all were raptly watching the two duellists. After getting into position, Jenson immediately fired off several strong hexes, which would end this farce and he would finally be able to duel the man he'd come here to beat. When the smoke cleared however, Malfoy was standing in the same spot, waving his index finger.

"Sloppy. Truly sloppy." He smiled diabolically and his face seemed to change. "My turn." The grin he now wore was almost demonic in its glee and expectation of violence. His attack was just as flawless as before, but much more vicious. The spells and hexes he threw were coming too fast for Jenson to block them. Battered Jenson tumbled back step by step. With a last flourish, Malfoy practically shot him off the carpet. Not stopping, Malfoy jumped down off the carpet and practically stalked Jenson, who was now desperately trying to simply defend himself.

"What's the matter, Jenson? I thought you were the duelling champion." In helpless anger, Jenson tried to get back to his feet.

"I am!" He screamed hoarsely.

"Then get on your feet! Get up and fight like a man! Or can't you fight when you are faced with an equal? Do you need to push others around to make you feel like a man?! Is that it? Are you that pathetic?" Malfoy was progressively losing his cool. The members of the club and Jenson's lackeys were too stunned to act. Malfoy's manservant however wasn't. Calmly he stepped between Jenson and his master.

"Sir? I believe Mr Jenson has learned his lesson. Also, you have an appointment in twenty minutes. I would suggest that we take our leave." For a moment it seemed as if Malfoy would attack his own servant, but then he breathed deeply through his nose and the sinister atmosphere seemed to vanish.

"Of course, Jarvis. You are right." He threw a devastating glare at the cowering Jenson. "We are done here." He spat and turned away. Quickly Jenson's companions rushed up to their fallen employer, who was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily and completely shocked. He seemed not only shocked, but broken. All made way as Malfoy left the hall. Hesitating in the door, Malfoy looked down at his boots, as if self-conscious.

"Mr Holbrook. Will we be meeting next week?" He asked. His voice curiously low, as if he didn't expect James to want anything to do with him again. James took a step forward, sensing that something from his partner's troubled past had come to the fore. Everyone had feelings like these. Experiences of darkness, which could pull one down again.

"Of course Mr Malfoy. Same time, same place." He assured his partner in a soft voice. Nodding and with a sad smile, Malfoy threw Holbrook a thankful glance. The clap of the door was unnaturally loud in the normally busy duelling hall. One of the members turned to Jenson and his team.

"You just had to provoke him, didn't you? I just hope you got what you came for." Jenson shakily got to his feet and managed a few steps.

"That lunatic could have killed me! I will sue him and every single one of you, for not stopping him!" He spluttered in a shrill, panicky voice. One of the older members chuckled and slung a towel over his shoulder.

"Good luck with that, kid. I'm a judge for the high wizarding court and all I could see was a highly accomplished duellist teaching an insolent whelp a lesson. Anyone else agree?" All other members nodded, along with all the servers, who were tending to the one Jenson had pushed around while throwing the champion hostile glances. "Get lost, kid, before something worse happens to you."

 **Please comment and let me know what you think. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I am just playing. I am making no profit from this.**

Chapter 2

Greg and Lionel sat shell shocked at their table. They had not only seen the former champion beaten handily, but the current one as well. By the same person. A person that didn't even seem to have broken a sweat. Weakly Lionel pointed down at the duelling hall, which was slowly being vacated for the evening.

"Is…Is that normal?" He asked in a low voice. Greg exploded into movement.

"Normal?! Normal? Are you kidding? Of course that's not normal. Sweet Merlin! Never, and I mean **never** , have I seen a duellist like Malfoy. I mean, I saw him duelling Holbrook before, but…but this!" Lionel was a little confused. Yes, the duels had been impressive in their speed and ferocity, but apart from that, he saw nothing special about them.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I'm not following." Gesticulating wildly, Greg had started to walk up and down.

"Not following?! Lionel have you ever used more than one powerful spell in quick succession? It requires…concentration, power, absolute control over mind and body. All this creates incredible tension and a strain on your body. Why do you think Holbrook looked so exhausted?"

"But Malfoy seemed fine." Intently Greg pointed his finger at Lionel with an intense stare.

"Exactly! Exactly, he seemed completely fine. That is almost unheard of. After those two duels, especially the last one, he should have been drained! But he was fine! Not even out of breath. If you want a first class duellist, he's the one you want. But I doubt he'll agree." Lionel took all this in and nodded slowly. True. Malfoy probably didn't need the job, but that only meant that the approach had to be a different one. He himself didn't need to work either. His family was more than affluent enough to insure him a comfortable lifestyle. And many generations coming after him. He worked as a professor, because he enjoyed knowledge and the philosophical exchange. Maybe it was possible to appeal to a similar impulse in Malfoy. It was worth looking into. It also required research into Malfoy's background. Something he wasn't equipped to do, but now that he had his full name, he could at least offer McPherson a candidate. He was sure that the Dean knew someone who would be able to find out everything there was to know about Draco Malfoy.

With this in mind Lionel entered the Dean's office the next morning. McPherson was perusing the morning papers with special attention to the article about Salem University and his rebuilding efforts. It was favourable, thank Merlin. Lionel knocked politely on the door jamb. McPherson looked up and adjusted his spectacles.

"Ah, Mr Jameson please come on in. I wasn't expecting to see you this soon." Smiling and practically vibrating with nervous energy, Lionel entered and closed the door behind him. McPherson lifted an eyebrow at this.

"Are we meeting in secret?" The Dean inquired with a sardonic smile. He was a no nonsense man, but appreciated the youthful exuberance of his colleague. Jameson reminded him of how he used to be; a long time ago. Lionel threw the door a look; his eyes were wide and filled with an eager gleam. It was clear that he was very excited.

"Sorry, sir. I don't know how you would want my report on a possible new duelling coach." Surprised McPherson sat back and took off his glasses.

"You found a candidate already?" He asked surprised. Eagerly Lionel nodded, kneading his hands. His posture on the chair reminded McPherson of an eager schoolchild.

"Yes, sir. I was at the club last night with the friend I mentioned. He is an expert in duelling. We were watching the members from a dedicated area for visitors and he explained the fine points of duelling to me. Please don't ask me about it. I don't remember most of it. Anyway, the main event of the evening was supposed to be a duel between former duelling champion James Holbrook and his regular partner, a British wizard by the name of Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Apparently they duel on a regular basis and Malfoy always beats Holbrook." At this McPherson leaned forward with intense interest.

"Please go on." He sensed there was much more to the story, or Jameson wouldn't be this excited.

"Yes, well. Gordon Jenson showed up. I didn't know him, but my friend did. Jenson had come to challenge Holbrook, but Holbrook declined. Then Malfoy showed up and they got to duelling. It took the Brit about five minutes to beat Holbrook. Afterwards they sat and talked. Jenson started pushing people around and demanding his duel with Holbrook. In the course of that, he threw an employee of the club into the wall. Malfoy became really angry about that and challenged Jenson. That duel was over quicker than the one with Holbrook and he didn't simply beat Jenson. Malfoy destroyed him. Made him look like a complete beginner, in fact." Lionel was now almost jumping in his seat. McPherson sat back again. Such a coach would be worth his weight in gold.

"How much do you know about this Malfoy?" He asked slowly, already thinking about how to approach the Brit.

"Not much, sir, to be honest. I am sorry. Like most Brits he's very private. I do know that he's quite wealthy. As such the salary won't be an incentive. Since I don't know him that well, I doubt that he would talk freely to me at the club. That is why I wondered if you might have sources in England, who could help. His full name is Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy." McPherson quickly jotted it down on a piece of paper, nodding eagerly now himself.

"Yes, yes I do. It indeed sounds promising. I would like you to continue your search anyway. I will do my best to approach Mr Malfoy with an offer, but he may decline. Not everyone feels a need to learn and share knowledge like you, Professor Jameson." Lionel smiled at this.

"Of course, sir. I hope you do not mind that I will continue to ask my friend to assist me." McPherson waved it off.

"No, no. He's already proven himself an asset. I will approach Malfoy myself. Thank you very much for your efforts." Both men stood and shook hands.

"Always a pleasure to be of service, sir." Lionel said, beaming and left. McPherson sat back down in his chair and thought about all he'd heard. Digging through the papers on his desk, he produced a cell phone. At first it had been hard for him to adjust to this muggle invention, but his daughter insisted and he had to grudgingly acknowledge that they were useful. And speed dial was a gift from the gods. Finding the correct numbers, he held the phone to his ear. After only two rings, it was picked up.

"Theodore, my friend. How are you?" He asked with a smile.

McPherson took in the high rise he stood in front of. It was a modern, muggle style building. In the last few years wizarding architects had been inspired by the truly prolific muggle varieties. It was a masterpiece of steel and crystal. He entered the foyer and was immediately greeted by a security wizard.

"Good morning, sir. Can I help you?" For a moment McPherson was overwhelmed by the grandeur of the inside. Intricate marble tiling and columns were gleaming in the light of the finely wrought glass chandelier. The desks of the security wizards were made of gleaming oak and just the foyer indicated the amount of money necessary to simply have a single office space in here. Not to mention an entire floor, like Malfoy did.

"Ah, yes. Thank you. I have an appointment with Mr Malfoy." The security wizard raised an eyebrow.

"Really? That's unusual." This comment confused McPherson but it seemed as if the other man wasn't going to expand on it. "Please follow me." Together they made their way through the security checkpoint where McPherson's wand was registered and weighed. Another guard called ahead, announcing McPherson's arrival.

"You can wait over there, Mr McPherson. Your guide will arrive shortly." McPherson nodded but was a little surprised about the extensive security measures. Before long a young man in a smart business suit approached him.

"Mr McPherson? I am Clive Hunter. PR contact for Malfoy Industries. Mr Malfoy has asked me to escort you upstairs and to answer any questions you might have."

"That is kind of you." They boarded a similarly posh elevator with mirrors, gold embellishments and green marble laid into the floor. "Could you tell me about Mr Malfoy?" He asked interested. He had received general information on Malfoy from his British contact, but he had yet to get more personal information.

"Mr Malfoy is an extraordinary man. Talented, dedicated and fair. When he arrived in the United States, Malfoy Industries was just a small outpost of the main business in Europe. Within four years he expanded the business to encompass the entire continent. We have offices now in Canada and Mexico, as well as every major wizarding settlement in the United States. Over 2,500 employees within the US alone. Despite his sizeable fortune, he works diligently and makes most of the important day to day decisions himself."

"And what kind of person is he?" At this Hunter turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"Reserved, highly intelligent. You will see for yourself, sir. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." With a grin Hunter turned back around, leaving McPherson confused. Before he could ask any more questions, the elevator doors opened. Together they went down a long corridor. It seemed to run the length of the entire floor. Left and right, doors and corridors were leading to a variety of offices. Hunter led McPherson down the warren of corridors and stopped in front of a heavy, wooden door.

"This is where I leave you. Go right in. Mr Malfoy is expecting you." Deciding not to wait any longer or to let any more cryptic remarks be flung his way, McPherson knocked and opened the door.

The office was bright and expensively furnished. Large windows let in the sunlight and to the side a bar was equipped with crystal decanters containing amber liquids. It reminded McPherson of the old days, where such a fixture was the norm in every office or drawing room. It spoke to a certain conservatism for Malfoy to have such a bar here. When he took the man behind the rosewood desk in, he was however surprised at the youth of him. He'd imagined him to be older, judging from his accomplishments. These thoughts were quickly dispelled, when Malfoy looked directly at him. The intensity of those mercury eyes was arresting.

"Mr McPherson." Malfoy rose from behind his desk and indicated one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. Greeting Malfoy, McPherson shook the other man's hand and took a seat. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"A cup of coffee would be nice, thank you." Malfoy nodded and indicated for someone behind them to come forward. Surprised McPherson saw that another man was inside the office. He hadn't even noticed this man, when he'd entered. Without uttering a word, the manservant prepared a fresh cup of coffee and presented it mutely to the Dean.

"I must say that I was intrigued when I received your request for a meeting. I am curious what I can possibly do for Salem University." Leaning back and crossing his legs, Malfoy studied McPherson. The Dean was a little uncomfortable under this intense gaze. Something he wasn't used to. Normally he was the one, who made people uncomfortable with only a glance. It was a testament to Malfoy's presence.

"I am sure that requests like mine do not often come across your table, Mr Malfoy. As I know that you are a busy man, I would like to cut to the chase." Malfoy inclined his head, which McPherson took as a sign of assent. "I am in the process of restructuring the faculty of Salem University."

"Yes, I read about that in the newspaper. It seems as if you're very successful."

"Thank you Mr Malfoy. That is very kind of you. However I am still looking for a capable duelling coach. The duelling team was once one of the very best within the country. I want it to be that again."

"Would you like me to give you a recommendation? I fear I am not familiar enough with the available personnel to give you a proper opinion." McPherson waved that off.

"No Mr Malfoy. I was thinking of offering that position to you." At this Malfoy sat up. Obviously surprised.

"Truly? And what gave you that idea?" The Dean smiled that he had been able to surprise Malfoy.

"Let's say that recent events concerning you and the current duelling champion have created quite a stir. I was impressed by your skill and I would be remiss in my duty to recruit the very best for Salem University if I wouldn't approach you. I know that the salary would hardly be an incentive for you. Instead I am offering you full control over the duelling program and the chance to influence generations of young wizards and witches. To form them into responsible members of society. At the moment I am ashamed to admit that the duelling team is nothing more than a band of bullies with no finesse. I need someone with presence, with influence and with the ability to immediately command respect. All things that apply to you." Malfoy leaned back and took this in. Suppressing his nervousness, McPherson waited for some kind of indication in what direction Malfoy was leaning.

"Before I make any kind of decision, I would have to think about it. Also, I would like to take a tour of the campus and watch your current team during training." McPherson nodded, trying not to seem too enthusiastic.

"Of course, of course. This decision is nothing to be taken lightly. Take your time and I will be happy to escort you over campus at your leisure." Both men rose and McPherson left the offices with a giddy, hopeful feeling.

Only a week later, the Dean was escorting Malfoy over the Salem campus. The tour included the various class rooms, dorms and facilities. The campus was expansive and had an old world charm. The buildings were from the late eighteenth century and McPherson was very proud of them.

"We renovated the Central Hall just last year. We are very proud of the history it represents. It is one of the oldest buildings in the country." He lectured as he looked up at the taller man. Malfoy didn't seem impressed, but then, his face rarely betrayed any emotion.

"Very impressive. Your efforts are to be commended. The preservation of national heritage is important." Malfoy commented and the Dean was galvanised at the recognition of his efforts.

"I know this probably can't compare to the age of similar buildings in Britain." For the first time a smile tickled at Malfoy's lips.

"Yes. My own alma mater is over a thousand years old." Walking over the green lawns, McPherson looked impressed up to him.

"Really? It must cost a fortune to keep it habitable. Old buildings have quirks." Malfoy chuckled.

"You have no idea, Dean McPherson. Hogwarts castle was built by wizards. It comes with all the illogical preconceptions of the eldest and most brilliant. Sadly they were also the most loony. We had moving staircases, vanishing rooms and a giant squid in the lake. The forest abutting the school was full of magical creatures. Some of them quite deadly. The carriages bringing students from the nearby town to the school were pulled by thestrals. Fact is Hogwarts is the only place that has a tame herd of them." McPherson was getting more and more impressed. Salem wasn't half as loaded with history as that place seemed to be. But then, Salem was a young institution compared to Hogwarts.

"But you are quite right. The upkeep is astronomical. All wizards in Britain contribute to it. It isn't that arduous for us, since most of us went there for our education." A wistful expression was on Malfoy's face now. Mixed in with the fond memory seemed a curious sadness though. Trying to get his guest out of those memories, McPherson pulled open the door to the duelling hall. It had seen better days, but with the sinking of the duelling standard, the funding for the program had dried up. McPherson was a little apprehensive when Malfoy's judging gaze took the room in. At the other end, Giles was 'training' his band of bullies. A gangly second year was attending them and getting hazed for his trouble. McPherson had to admire the boy's tenacity. If it had been him, he would have quit, but apparently not this young man. Maybe he was hoping that if he toughed it out, he would be offered a spot on the team. Making their way through the hall, they approached the team. Giles caught their movement out of the corner of his eye. He knew that the Dean was planning to replace him. But he doubted that it would be the ponce he was with. Seriously. What the Hell was that man wearing?! The jacket hung down to his knees, while the stiff collar stood straight up. His white shirt was pristine and over it, he wore a black, embroidered vest. High quality slacks encased his legs, while his feet were encased in dragon leather boots. A big ring was on the ring finger of his left hand. No, this couldn't be a candidate for his post, but much more an investor. Donning his pleasant face, he approached them.

"Dean McPherson. What can I do for you?" He asked with false cheer. He hated being under constant surveillance by the Dean. That stuck-up bastard had no sense of fun. His old buddy would at least allow him some leeway. Especially when it came to his team and the cheerleaders in particular.

"Mr Giles. I would like to introduce Draco Malfoy. He is considering sponsoring our duelling team." Giles' opinion of the other man didn't change a whit, but he nonetheless offered him a big smile and his hand for a shake.

"That's wonderful. Mr Malfoy, please let me welcome you. The Dean has chosen a fortuitous moment for your visit. We were just about to start our training." Malfoy inclined his head and first now, Giles concentrated on the other man's face. The eyes had a most unusual colour, as well as the skin and his hair. He seemed almost like an albino. No matter. The freak obviously had money and that was all that counted.

"Fantastic. I do not want to interfere and will sit over here with the Dean, if you do not mind Mr Giles." Nodding, Giles took a step back.

"Of course Mr Malfoy. If you have any questions later on, please do not hesitate to approach me." Malfoy didn't answer him, but only inclined his head and walked off with that dick of a Dean. With long strides, Giles made his way over to his students. They were goofing around and shoving that loser Francis around. Why the hell that boy continued to come, when Giles had made it clear that he would never put him on the team was anybody's guess. That wimp didn't have the necessary will to win nor the stamina. He didn't even fight back, when the team took it out on him when they lost. Such a pushover!

"All right you wannabes! Gather round!" He called out and the team grumblingly did. They were all bulky young men. Giles knew that most teams incorporated women nowadays, but he wouldn't hear anything about this nonsense. Women were too squeamish and not prepared to go in for the kill. The Dean might not think much of the team, but Giles thought differently. Also because they were absolutely loyal to him. He allowed them freedoms most of which the Dean would frown upon at best or condemn at worst. Ever since the Dean had mandated a minimum grade of a B for all members of the duelling team, Giles had been only too happy to 'help' his boys pass their tests. It only heightened their regard for him and their loyalty. Their future now depended upon him, since he at any time could report them for their cheating.

"Good. Listen, we have a guest today." He pointed over to where the Dean and Malfoy had taken their seats. The boys threw the visitors glances and some of them chuckled.

"Is that guy for real? Look at his clothes, man. Guess his boyfriend picked those out for him this morning." At this the others started laughing. They better. Stuart was the ringleader. When he made jokes, you laughed. Giles noted however, that Francis didn't even crack a smile. Merlin, that boy would never learn. Oh well. The boys would teach him later.

"He may look like a ponce, but he's oozing money. Money he wants to spend on us. So you better make a good show of it today." Giles warned. Stuart grinned, cracking his knuckles.

"No worries, coach. We'll give him a good show." Giles nodded.

"Good. Get on with the exercises and at the end, throw Francis around a bit." All boys turned to the slimmer boy with dark grins.

"Yes sir." They agreed and got up.

Over the next hour and a half Malfoy and the Dean watched the duelling team's training. It was largely composed of exaggerated posturing for the benefit of the underdressed cheerleaders. The Dean sighed and leaned slightly towards Malfoy.

"As you can see, I urgently need your help. This 'training' is a farce and I am not even an expert." Malfoy grunted, but kept his eyes trained on the duelling carpets. His face didn't reveal anything about his opinion, but McPherson sensed that he was just as dissatisfied with the standard of duelling as he was. The final 'duel' between the team captain and the support member was only icing on the cake. The boy never had a chance. For one, he had only finished his first semester and Stuart was a senior. Not that his technique was anything to write home about, but there could be no question about his power. After a few token moves of defence by the support, Stuart knocked him off the carpet and blasting him into the next wall. For McPherson this was the last straw. Giles had to go. Never mind if he had a replacement for the brute or not. That bastard had the guts to smile as he approached them.

"So? What do you think?" He asked full of confidence. As if what his team had demonstrated was the epitome of skill. Before McPherson could say anything, Malfoy took a step forward with a raised eyebrow.

"Honestly? I have **never** seen more appalling wandwork than just now." Giles seemed absolutely flabbergasted. He'd never expected that guy to openly insult him in front of his team, which was closing in on them now; wanting to hear the rich guy's verdict.

"Watch your tongue." Giles hissed. McPherson smiled and leaned back to watch. From what Jameson had told him, this would be good.

"No thank you. It is too much bother and one simply looks extremely silly while attempting it." While Giles and the team, as well as the cheerleaders, seemed completely confused by this answer, Francis couldn't help but snort in amusement. He quickly turned it into a cough, when some of the team threw him dark glances.

"You think you're awful clever, don't you?" Giles grated, while pulling out his wand. Malfoy chuckled coldly.

"Oh please. Put that away before you hurt yourself." Malfoy drawled, completely at ease and not at all intimidated. Stuart took a step forward, poking Malfoy in the chest with his finger.

"Watch it, ass hole. Show some respect." Malfoy's cold, grey eyes were redirected onto the young man.

"I might suggest the same to you. Refrain from insulting people whose ability you don't know. Now step away, before you strain your pea of a brain." With that Malfoy turned away from the youth. Stuart however would have none of it.

"Now wait just a minute!" He exclaimed irately. Malfoy shot him a dark look, which froze the younger man.

"Adults are talking. Shut up and step back. That shouldn't be too much even for you." The sharp and precise enunciation of the words cut like knives and for the first time in his life, Stuart felt compelled to obey. "Now to you. I indeed believe myself to be intelligent, but unlike you, I have at least accomplishments to prove it." Giles waved his wand, but before he could even start an incantation, Malfoy took the wand from him. He took it; by hand, not with magic.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, man. Give me that before you poke someone's eye out. You don't know how to wield it properly anyway. Consider yourself warned. Dean McPherson has offered me your position and I urge you to resign now and leave with dignity. Dean McPherson I will be honoured to take on the position of duelling coach, provided that I will have the freedom to make some changes." McPherson had to restrain himself from smiling. It was enough that Malfoy had already embarrassed the man in front of his own team.

"You think just because of your great announcement it will clinch the deal?! Huh? Well fat chance of that happening." Giles turned with a nasty smile to McPherson. "You seem to forget that I have a contract, McPherson. You can't just fire me." Tutting the Dean decided that now was a perfect moment to kick Giles out for good. Now that he had the assurance from Malfoy that he was going to take over the duelling team.

"Oh Giles. Please do not insult my intelligence. You've breached that contract more times than I can count. I didn't use it before, because I had yet to find a new coach. Now that Mr Malfoy has agreed to take the position, I see no reason to retain your rather questionable services any longer. I expect you to be gone from campus within the next five hours. If you are still here by then, I will take the utmost pleasure in sending campus security after you." Giles quickly saw his cushy job going up in a puff of smoke. Spluttering he grabbed his wand back from Malfoy and uttering half-empty threats, made his way out. The team stood there, mouths gaping open, not believing what they'd seen. Their idol had just been fired, with a capital F. Their attention was quickly redirected however to their new coach.

"All of you are off the team as of now. Trials will be held in three months. I don't care who you think you are, or how long you have been on the team. Thank you and goodbye." For a moment none of them moved. Except for young Francis. Excited he nodded and left the gym. Finally he would get a chance to actually become a duellist. To learn how to fight properly. After him, the rest of the former team and the cheerleaders left in clusters of friends. Malfoy turned to McPherson.

"I hope you do not mind my taking action, despite there being no contract in place." McPherson waved the other man's worries off. Together they made their way outside.

"Please do not worry, Mr Malfoy. You simply spelled out what I have been thinking for the longest time. Would you mind joining me for coffee in my office? We can talk about the particulars of your contract."

"Splendid idea. Please lead the way." While traversing the university grounds, McPherson kept up most of the conversation. He didn't mind all that much. Salem University had been his passion for a while now and while the institution didn't have half of the illustrious history Malfoy's school seemed to have, there were still many great witches and wizards, who'd graduated here.

Upon reaching his office, he had his assistant supply them with fresh coffee and pastries. Malfoy settled elegantly into a chair opposite McPherson. The coffee service on a low cherry wood table between them. After pouring them both a cup and handing one to Malfoy, McPherson took a seat himself.

"Now, you said you want full control of the duelling program. If I were to grant you that, what would it involve?" McPherson asked. While having Malfoy as his coach would be a dream come true considering his skill, he still had to make sure that he wouldn't endanger the students or do something illegal. Malfoy smiled minimally.

"Of course, Dean McPherson. My having complete control would entail that I alone would have control over the curriculum. I would also insist on having the duelling program expanded. This would require the hiring of two further instructors. One for physical training and the other for potions." At this McPherson sat up a little.

"We have two potions professors already employed here." Malfoy waved that off.

"Yes, I know. I took the liberty of researching the university, if you don't mind. You hired these professors however with their abilities in research and teaching in mind. To keep a university this size running, you need more than donations from alumni and the tuition fees. Research and development is a key income for universities nowadays. That is why you have Jagger and Platt on your staff. They are brilliant potioneers and have made many an advancement in the field over the years. Their patents alone will keep their division flourishing for the next few years.

"However what I need is someone who has more experience with the practical application, as well as the theory. Something Jagger and Platt lack. They are awfully good in a laboratory, but have no experience in the field. I want to not simply train duellists, but Aurors." McPherson creased his brow at this.

"Aurors?" He asked confused. Malfoy nodded and took a sip from his coffee.

"I'm sorry. I believe you simply call them Guards. Back in England there are specially trained Guards, called Aurors. There are security wizards and witches, but these Aurors are elite crime fighters. They receive rigorous training in duelling, potions and a wide range of spells." McPherson mulled this over. It was a good idea. He always thought the duelling a little frivolous, since it didn't seem to serve a higher purpose, except exercise. This would give it a different purpose and after having a meeting or two with the local Guard Chief, this could be made into a recognised program to recruit new Guards. Yes, this could work in the university's favour if presented in the correct light.

"Your proposal has merit. I have however never heard of such a program and it might be a hard sell to the board." Malfoy inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"I understand. I believe though that I can make the 'sell' easier for you. If you will grant me the full control of the program and sanction the curriculum I would present, I am willing to give you the following promise in writing.

"One; I will pay for the two additional instructors myself, until the board sees the merits and agrees to grant payment to them from the university funds. Two; I will start a scholarship, also funded from my own coffers, for those who have the talent, but unfortunately not the means. The choosing of recipients will be up to me and the other two coaches. Three; I promise to bring the team back into the top five ranking by the end of the second season or you may fire me, without continuance of pay. How do these terms sound to you?" McPherson was speechless for a moment. He knew from his contacts in Britain that Malfoy was well off, but this casual approach to the large amounts of money needed, indicated that Malfoy wasn't simply rich; he was filthy rich.

"Mr Malfoy I don't know if I can accept such a generous offer." Staring into his coffee, a haunted expression settled over Malfoy's face. McPherson wondered what he was thinking about. The details of Malfoy's life had been sketchy up until his twentieth birthday. There were some newspaper articles where his family name was mentioned in connection with the war that had been fought there some years ago. Since England was low on newspapers, it was difficult to get corroboration. What one newspaper published didn't necessarily have to be the truth. Malfoy's voice pulled him out of his musings.

"I guess I will have to tell you some details about my past, if this endeavour is to go forward and to avoid problems. Please understand that I will not go into details. Many of it is still painful to me." One look into the other man's eyes and McPherson could attest to the truth of this. "My youth was misspent. I was forced to join a cause I didn't fully understand and committed acts that I am deeply ashamed of now. Nothing too severe, do not worry. I bullied people and ostracised others due to the circumstances of their birth. I know that the war was covered to some extent here." He rolled up his sleeve and revealed a faded tattoo.

"I was young, misled and stupid. None of it a true excuse for what I did, but I paid my penance. I spent two years in prison. A light punishment. Some would say too much so. If you hire me, it will not make you popular with some people. When I was released I tried to make amends. The wounds were too fresh though and my efforts were met with distrust. My freedom brought back bad memories to people who deserved to be happy and to forget. I removed myself from their sights by coming to the United States. A decision my parents did not approve. I established Malfoy Industries here and did my best to leave all of that behind me. I hired people based on talent, not because of their possible ties or blood status. Taking such a prestigious position might bring back my past with a vengeance. I just thought you ought to know before you make a decision." McPherson nodded slowly, while taking Malfoy's story in. Taking a sip from his coffee, he let it slowly slide down his throat while arranging his thoughts carefully.

"Mr Malfoy, I am not in the habit of letting others dictate my decisions for me. I've made some controversial ones in my time and they were rarely popular. You are without a doubt the most capable, available man for the job. Not hiring you would be gross negligence on my part. If your past should come up, I will deal with it. While none of my other professors ever were in prison for any length of time, some of them have their own past as well.

"I won't say that this won't be a problem. I will have to disclose this to the board, but let me reassure you that I will do my utmost to present you as the man you are. Not the boy you were. We all make mistakes when we are young. According to my reckoning, you couldn't have been more than a teenager when all this happened. In my book this makes you not fully responsible for the acts you committed." Malfoy tilted his head a little and a hesitant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I do not know if anyone ever told you this Dean McPherson, but you are a very wise man." McPherson couldn't help himself and a barking laugh escaped him. The sound dispelled the sombre atmosphere and both men shared an amiable smile.

"I've been called many things, but never that. There was usually something else following wise. Especially by my wife." Malfoy smirked and toasted him.

"Ah. Womenfolk are privy to a deeper wisdom than we will ever be able to grasp. At least that is what they like us to believe." McPherson chuckled and nodded. He didn't care what could possibly happen if he hired Malfoy. The man deserved a second chance. He could attest to every court in the world, that the man had changed his act. Malfoy Industries was more than enough proof. Malfoy truly hired people only based on their talent, regardless of their background or magical ability. He'd heard from one of his sources that Malfoy even employed squibs and they didn't hold menial jobs like being a janitor. They were full-fledged members of the firm in accounting or development. Most often they were influential members of the muggle relations office, responsible for marketing the products on the muggle market.

"While this may seem premature; welcome to the Salem University, Mr Malfoy." Smiling, both men toasted the other once again.

 **Author's note: Please leave a comment and tell me what you think. Thanks for reading. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer is still in effect. ;)**

Chapter 3

Francis was excited and could barely breathe due to his brisk walk back to the dorms. Throwing open the door with a bang to his room, his room mate Clarence shot him a bewildered look.

"What's gotten into you? Is the brainless brigade after you? If so, please take it outside." Clarence didn't know why Francis hung out with the bullies of the duelling team. There was no chance that creep Giles would ever let his friend on the team and besides, they weren't much of a team anyway. Breathing deep, Francis tried to catch his breath while supporting his weight by his hands on his calves.

"You'll…never…believe…what just happened." He wheezed out. Worried Clarence got off his bed and pushed a chair under Francis.

"Sit down for Circe's sake. You're about to pass out, man!" Quickly he got a water bottle from their refrigerator and offered it to Francis, who drank greedily. "What is it?"

"Giles got fired." Complete silence reigned in their room after this bombshell.

"What?!" Clarence finally got out. Francis nodded eagerly.

"My reaction exactly. The Dean brought some foreigner around to watch training. Giles said he was a sponsor. Turned out he's to be the new coach. It was epic, man! You should have been there. This other dude got right in Giles' face, telling him what an ass he is. Giles started waving his wand around and the other guy just took it away from him. By hand! He didn't even use a spell or anything. I think that was what shut Giles up immediately. Stuart tried to come to Giles' rescue, but the other guy just stared him down. For the first time ever, Stuart shut up and actually listened." Clarence was hunching next to Francis with round eyes.

"Fuck! And I missed it all?! Damn man! You should have sent me a message or something." Francis chuckled.

"It happened all so fast. I had no time to get my cell phone out. After thoroughly telling Giles what an incompetent idiot he is, the Dean fired him there; on the spot. He's to leave campus within the next five hours, or he'll sic security on him." Clarence was now as excited as Francis. He'd hated how his friend had been treated by these idiots over the last months and now they finally received their just reward and he'd missed it.

"You think he'll leave?" He asked. Francis waggled his eyebrows with a bright smile.

"Why do you think I ran over here? No way is he going to go quietly. This is going to be all over campus within minutes and we have to hurry to get good seats. So pack up your books and let's go before the best are taken." Grinning brightly, both boys threw some books and drinks into their bags and flew out the door. Up and down the corridor, similar things happened. It wasn't every day a professor was forcibly removed from campus. Another student stuck his head out of his room to complain about the noise. When he saw Francis, he stopped.

"Oy, Francis! What's this all about?" He called. Not stopping, Francis simply called his answer over his shoulder.

"The Dean's fired Giles! He has five hours to leave campus. Then security's coming for him." The door shut for a moment and then the other student joined the growing group headed for the green. It had a good view of the teachers' lodgings. When they reached it a large group was already there. Due to Francis informing his friend early, they were still able to secure front row seats for the spectacle. Sitting down on the grass, Francis grabbed one of his books from his bag.

"The best part is that the Dean hired this other guy on the spot, right in front of Giles. After the idiot left in a huff, he threw **everyone** off the team. He's going to hold trials in three months to determine who will be on the new team." Clarence lightened up at this considerably. Finally Francis would actually have a shot at being a duellist. Merlin knew he deserved it.

"That's great man! Finally you get a decent chance. You think Stuart will make the team?" He hated to put a damper on Francis' excitement, but better to discuss it now, than to hear him bitch and moan about it later. Francis' smile however didn't waver.

"Don't care if he does. The new guy doesn't seem one to take any shit. And Stuart's lazy. He'll probably get thrown off the team within a month, if he even makes it." Grinning they settled in to wait with their fellow students. They wouldn't be disappointed. After the ultimatum ran out, Giles hadn't left, as almost all of them had predicted. It was a great spectacle when he was carried out by two security wizards, followed by another two, who levitated along all his possessions. Jeering the crowd of students followed them, hurling insults at the former teacher. The, former, duelling team tried to aid their benefactor, but they were soon overcome by those they'd bullied in the past. Giles was thrown out in short order and stood outside the gates of the university, screaming insults. The Dean appeared and the students quieted down. Though they rarely saw the man, they all had respect for him.

"Remove your sorry hide from our premises, Mr Giles, or I will be forced to call the Guard to do it for you. As for the rest of you. The show is over. Please return to your studies." He called out in a sonorous enhanced voice. Slowly the students dispersed, but often not before throwing Giles the one finger salute. There was no question about Giles being one of the most disliked teachers ever and apart from his bullies, no one was sorry to see him go. Giddy with the excitement, numerous students decided this was a perfect opportunity to start a party and it would turn out to be a day that most students would fondly remember as one of the very best at Salem University.

The next week saw Draco Malfoy in his office in the process of signing over his responsibilities to his leading managers; and his personal valet. This hadn't come as a surprise to those who knew Malfoy well and were in board meetings with him. Jarvis was often asked his opinion and as he had a degree from a muggle law school, he was able to give competent and sound advice.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, with this signature the company is in your capable hands. I will be a silent partner still, but you will be running things. This document stipulates that the company is to be run as it has been. Lucy and George have been over it twice and I'm sure they have assured you all that all is in order. I trust you to keep up the good work. Jarvis will take over for me, but this shouldn't be too much of an adjustment, since he has been basically running this firm already for some time." At this all of the assembled chuckled and nodded.

"Don't worry, sir. We'll take good care of her and keep her on the straight and narrow." Anna assured. All employees were proud to work at Malfoy Industries. The company credo was that you could excel, no matter who you were or where you came from. This had drawn all kinds of people to the company. Highly capable people, who had been denied jobs, because of their background or status. Malfoy Industries took care of its own and paid well, which made all employees extremely loyal. It had led to Malfoy Industries to be voted the best employer five years running.

Draco signed the parchment with his full name and all of the managers stepped up, to add their signature. When it was Jarvis' turn, he looked to Malfoy with glistening eyes.

"Are you sure, sir?" Draco nodded with a smile.

"Yes, Jarvis, I am. You are the best man for the job. You have done outstanding work and it is yours by right. Please accept." Nodding, Jarvis penned his name among the others. It would be controversial, since Jarvis would be the first squib ever to be the CEO of a magical company, but Draco saw no problem in that. As a manager he wouldn't need to perform any magic. He had people to do that for him. "I would ask you to keep Alice though. As a teacher I won't need a secretary and she is one of the very best." Blushing slightly, Jarvis nodded.

"Of course, sir. I would never dream of giving the competition a chance to snatch her from us." Smiling Draco clapped the man on the back. When the last signature was on the parchment, it glowed, indicating that it was binding.

"Now that the serious part is out of the way, let us celebrate my new employment. Alice? If you would please?" Smiling the young woman distributed champagne among the assembled. Raising his glass, Draco let his glance roam the room. He knew all of these people well. Had hand picked them from hundreds of applicants and seen them grow into the confident people they were today.

"I would like to thank all of you for the hard work and time you put into Malfoy Industries. It has been an honour and a privilege knowing and working with you. Here's to a bright future!" Lifting his glass a bit more, he took a sip. All around the room the others raised their glasses as well. A few tears rolled and the ladies presented him with flowers. Smiling Draco took them and kissed their cheeks. The men gave him a Breitling watch. George stepped back, after giving it to him.

"No kissing." He warned, which had all laughing. Draco clapped his shoulder with a smile and put his new watch on. It was inscribed on the back with a goodbye from them.

"No guarantees old man. I might be tempted by your 'distinguished sideburns'." The laughter continued and George sighed deeply.

"That was eight years ago! The woman was drunk off her ass!" Alice passed by with the champagne bottle, refilling their glasses.

"Didn't stop you from marrying her, did it?" George grumbled a little, but didn't say anything more. Jarvis grinned and bumped his shoulder.

"Wise choice to quit while you're ahead." Snorting George rolled his eyes.

"Oh shove off!" He said in a faux grumpy tone, which had all again in laughter.

After a few more drinks, Draco left them to their business. While he would still hold a stake in the company, he would no longer have any say. Pulling out his capital would send the wrong signals to the market and might damage the company. Something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He'd drafted a press release with Alan yesterday evening to be released tomorrow. It explained that he wasn't quitting his company, but that he simply pursued another career path now and that he had every confidence in the team he put in place. It would reassure the investors and hopefully there would be no negative impact on the company. On his way out, several employees were waiting for him in the corridors, wishing him luck and presenting him with small gifts they had collected for. Each time he stopped and took his time to chat. It was the least they deserved for being so loyal to him and working so hard.

Almost at the end, he met the members of the cleaning staff. He always gave special opportunities for them to take classes after work. Most of them came from poor families, who couldn't afford a higher education and were thus forced to take menial jobs. Some of his most talented people had come from their ranks.

"We're sorry to see you go, sir." Ian, the building manager, said a little sad. Draco smiled and shook his hand.

"Don't be. Jarvis will take good care of all of you. You all know him and he will continue as I want it. Please do not worry." Ian nodded and waved for one of the girls. She held a smaller bouquet than any of the others, but it touched Draco's heart that they each had given from their urgently needed money to present him with a goodbye.

"It's not much…" She apologised, but Draco shook his head and pressed a kiss to her brow.

"It's perfect. It's better than anything else I got, because I know how much it means to you all." He met all of their eyes. When he'd worked long hours, he'd taken the time to talk to them, whenever he met them. Most of their stories had brought tears to his eyes. This was why he wanted to help their families in a more direct way.

"You all know by now that I have taken a position with the Salem University. I made it a condition of my hiring that I could award a few full scholarships to those I deem worthy. I will come to your neighbourhood day after tomorrow. Could you tell everyone who is interested? All I want in applicants is the willingness to work hard and to have passable grades. They will have to join my duelling program for the first semester. If they think that's not right for them, they can drop out and take other courses, while the scholarship still stands." Almost as one, they rushed up to him. Teary eyed they hugged him. A little uncomfortable he slowly extricated himself and got on the elevator.

"Bless you, Mr Malfoy. Blessings on you and your family." Esther, the oldest of them told him again and again, until the doors closed. Breathing deeply and suppressing the tears, he leaned against the back. Their reaction brought it home once more, how little chance certain people were given in this country. If this was a success, he might be able to entice the people in power to do more. They just had to be shown that not all were criminals and that the poor were nothing to be feared.

As promised a black limo entered the south district of the wizarding part of Salem, despite the Guard's urgings not to go there. Draco parked his car and as he got out, he saw that his arrival had immediately attracted the attention of several young men. To him they didn't look all that scary, but then, he had been in the presence of true evil. These were just misguided youths, much like he had been. A tall Hispanic walked around the car, tapping the hood.

"Nice ride." He commented. Draco inclined his head.

"Thank you. I am Draco Malfoy. May I ask your name?" The Hispanic youth and the others were a little startled at his friendly attitude. They were used to people immediately assuming a defensive stance.

"Emilio." He only said. Nodding slightly, Draco stretched out his hand.

"A pleasure to meet you Emilio." This baffled the youths even more. No one, absolutely no one, acted like this with them. Mostly they were simply shoved into the nearest wall accused of stealing something or ignored by those better off. Unsure he shook Draco's hand. The handshake wasn't short, but sure and strong.

"I do not know if you have heard, but I am here to see if any of you would be interested in a scholarship to Salem University." At this a smaller youth to the back snorted.

"Yeah right! Our neighbour was talking about nothing else. Something about her boss promising to give us poor people a chance. As if that is ever going to happen." Draco's face was dead serious and the youths took a step back from him. Growing up on the street had taught them to recognise danger. It was these instincts Draco needed.

"I never joke about things like that. My word is my bond. As I am sure yours is the same." Many of them nodded with slanted smiles. This guy might be strange, but he understood. Street cred depended on you keeping to your word. "What I offer is simple. I am the new duelling coach at Salem University. I saw their old team and I can tell you, in a real fight they would be down before any of them could even draw a wand, much less utter a spell." This had the group chuckling and once again drawing closer. Looking over their shoulder, Draco spied a fenced off area with obstacles and shelters. It was in disrepair, having been put there and never tended, he imagined. Some former mayors promise to help the poor. He hated it when people didn't follow through. If you wanted to do something, you should do it right.

"Is that your duelling court?" He asked them. They nodded and Emilio pointed to a wall.

"Yeah. See there? That's our tag." On the wall a scantily clad witch on a broom winked at them. Draco smirked and shook his head. Teenagers, oh well.

"Naughty." He commented, which had the group once more snickering. Their good mood was broken by a siren. All turned around to see a Guard car pulling up. Emilio and the others' stance changed immediately and Draco smelled a confrontation coming.

"Relax boys. Please let me show you how to effectively get rid of them. If needed, please play along." They seemed surprised but nodded. Draco stepped up to the curb, when the car stopped and the Guards got out halfway.

"Are these delinquents giving you trouble, sir?" Draco mimed confusion looking around.

"Have you seen any delinquents, Emilio?" He asked the only whose name he knew. Suppressing a smile, Emilio shook his head.

"Nope, Mr Malfoy." Turning back to the Guards, Draco shrugged.

"Sorry, Guard Turner. No delinquents here. I was just talking to some new acquaintances of mine." The Guard didn't take the hint though.

"If they are threatening you, you can tell us. We can protect you." Before the situation could escalate, Draco straightened and anger seeped into his icy voice.

"The only one threatening here is you, Guard Turner. These young people were just having a nice, civil conversation with me. The only rude party here is you. Assuming they must be criminals because they live here. I suggest you do not search for crimes where there are none." Getting flushed the Guard fully exited his car, while his partner tried to stop him.

"Did you just threaten me?!" He asked hotly.

"Why ever should I? I was simply explaining the facts to you. If you do not like them it is not my fault or doing." Turner however seemed to not even listen, as he pulled out his baton. Before he could pull it out fully, his partner's hand clamped over his.

"What the Hell are you doing?! Don't you recognise him? That's Draco Malfoy you idiot! Give it a rest!" Pulling harshly away from his partner, Turner settled his mean eyes back on Draco.

"Yeah right. As if that rich ponce would ever come here. You're just some perv here to score some ass, aren't you?" Incensed Emilio took a step forward at the insinuation that he or any of his friends were prostitutes. Draco's arm across his chest stopped him though. Emilio looked at Malfoy to protest, but swallowed it immediately. There was something more dangerous in the man's face than he'd ever seen.

"You shouldn't judge others by your standard." Malfoy's voice was low and controlled. Emilio admired him for it. He'd be screaming by now. The implication had an immediate effect on Turner though.

"Are you suggesting I'm gay?!" He asked furious, his head bright red by now. Draco lifted his eyebrows in affected surprise.

"Possibly. If you react this violently to even a suggestion, you might be suppressing your true desires." The other Guard pulled his partner back.

"We're sorry for the interruption, sir. Have a nice day." Cursing Turner tried to free himself, but his partner was adamant. "Get in the fucking car, Turner! If you lay a finger on him, the Chief will have our hides!" He hissed. Turning back, Turner pointed his baton at them.

"This isn't over." Draco took another step into the street, into the view of the camera he knew was in the car.

"Yes, it is. Should I hear that you have stirred up trouble here without just cause, I will make sure that you are punished to the full extent of the law. I only give warnings once, so you better heed it. Now please leave us to our discussions, or I will have to lodge a complaint with your superiors, Guard Turner." He threw the other man a glance, indicating that he didn't hold him responsible. Nodding, the other Guard practically pushed Turner back into the car and got in himself. After they drove off, Emilio and the others started jeering.

"So we're to tell them they're fags to get rid of them?" Emilio asked with a smirk. Draco shook his head with a slanted smile.

"I admit it didn't go as I had planned. Have you had trouble with Guard Turner before?" Some in the group shrugged, while others nodded. He guessed that those, who had shrugged, were too proud to admit to it. "Well, he shouldn't trouble you any more, as long as you stay out of trouble. If he does anyway, contact me. I'll take care of him. You have my word on that." He met their eyes to let them know that he meant it. They were sceptical, but he didn't blame them. Too often they had been promised things by rich people or those in power, without them following through.

"Now, back to your duelling range. I gather you do not duel traditionally, but do freestyle?" Emilio grinned widely and nodded.

"Traditional duelling is boring. Freestyle is the only style, man." Draco tutted him and shook his head.

"Now, now, Emilio. Don't shirk it before you have tried it properly. I grant you that traditional duelling lacks in flair and action, but it is far from boring if done correctly. May I demonstrate?" Emilio seemed a little taken aback.

"You want to duel me? Is this some kind of trick?" Suspicion was written all over his face. With a grin Draco shook his head, taking off his jacket.

"Not at all. I came here to find talented duellists who are interested in a higher education. I would be a shoddy coach, if I wasn't able to duel myself. Now let us see what you are made of." He entered the court and looked over his shoulder. "Unless of course you are scared." This had the others laughing loudly, while Emilio pulled his banged up wand.

"You're asking for it, man. I won't apologise for teaching you a lesson." Grinning Draco squared off with him.

"Do not worry. I won't ask for one. Shall we begin?"

And this started his search. Over the next four hours he duelled almost all eligible youths in the neighbourhood. Word of his presence quickly made the rounds and all had heard about the rich guy crazy enough to come by and offer a scholarship to those who wanted it. Some brought food and drinks, others some chairs. When the street lights came on, even Draco was becoming a little winded. He'd taken off his shirt and sweat stained his under shirt. He waved for a young boy he'd paid to get him some water. Eagerly the small boy ran forward, offering one of the bottles. Ruffling the boy's hair, Draco took a bottle and drank deeply. Breathing deep he looked around.

"Good. Anyone else? I am still standing ladies and gentlemen!" He called out, which had all laughing.

"Get Jamal! He's smart and all. We can't let the rich guy leave without at least giving him a good fight." Someone in the back called. Draco perked up at this. This Jamal fellow seemed promising.

"Probably nose deep in one of his books." Another called back. A little commotion to the left caught Draco's attention.

"Shut up. I'm here. Nana wanted to see." A tall, black boy with closely cropped hair stepped forward. Draco took him in. He seemed well groomed, while his clothes were badly worn. In his dark eyes was a gleam of cunning intelligence. Draco smiled. A perfect candidate. Bowing to Jamal, he introduced himself.

"Good evening Jamal. I am Draco Malfoy. I came here to find young men and women interested in a higher education. I am the new duelling coach at Salem University." Jamal raised an eyebrow and gave him an uncertain nod.

"Good evening Mr Malfoy. I'm Jamal Smith." Smiling Draco indicated for him to come closer.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, how about you give me a demonstration of your skill?" Jamal shook his head.

"Sorry, sir. I can't. I have to get Nana back home and then I have to get to my job." Nodding sadly, Draco let him go. He would seek him out later. Turning to the crowd, he lifted his hands.

"Thank you very much for coming. Now, I would like the following four people to stay behind with any legal guardians that might be in attendance as well. Emilio Escobar, Keisha Andrews, James Hawk and Francesca Benedetti. Thank you again and good night!" He turned away from the course and made his way back to his car. While some left grumbling, others congratulated those who had been chosen. Emilio seemed a little overwhelmed, since Draco had beaten him handily within two minutes at most, if even that. The four chosen quickly made their way over to him, their faces and that of their parents eager for what he had to say. Smiling he looked at each of them.

"I am very pleased to be able to offer each of you a full scholarship to Salem University and my duelling program. You will have to attend my program for the first semester. If you do not like it or think you would be happier doing something else, you can drop out after the first semester and pursue another path. You will retain your scholarship in such a case as long as your grade average does not drop below a B-. Housing and study materials will be provided for you by me. As long as you put in hard work, you will be rewarded for it. What do you say?" The girls were squealing a yes, after they overcame their shock and were hugging their parents tightly. The boys were stunned. James took his hand, shaking it vigorously, while being hugged by his parents. Emilio's mother was sobbing and whispering in Spanish, hanging onto her son. He took her into his arms, a tear in his own eye, which he tried to hide. Smiling softly, Draco knew that it had been worth it. He would ache all over come tomorrow, but it was a trifling price to pay for the unadulterated happiness and hope in the eyes and faces of the people in front of him. Shaking each of their hands in turn, he leaned to his car.

"Now don't think this will be easy. You may face some antagonism due to your background, but don't you ever let that get you down. You have earned this the hard way. And once you've wiped the floor with the lightweights who will try to get on the team with you, they will realise that as well." All smiled at him, tears still on most their faces.

"What about Jamal? Can you help him too?" It was Keisha and her parents nodded, as well as the others. Draco sighed.

"I would have loved to, if he is as good as you indicated." Emilio nodded earnestly.

"He is. Better than me, he is. But he's got it hard. His mum's sick and he has to take care of her and his Nana. She's a bit…out of it. Working two jobs and still graduated from High School. Gotta give him kudos for that." Nodding Draco looked down the street.

"Do you think he would reconsider if he knew his family was taken care of?" James nodded.

"In a blink. He really wants to learn, but he doesn't want to leave his family alone." Draco smiled.

"I can understand that. Would you mind telling me where he lives?"

Jamal herded his Nana down the street. She went on about how the block had gone to the dogs, ever since her husband died. Jamal doubted that his grandfather had held any influence that would have prevented his neighbourhood from sliding into poverty as it had. But he didn't say so. It would only upset her. He'd been frantic when he'd come home and she hadn't been there. She would sometimes wander off and his mother was in no condition to get her back inside. It made him late to work at times, but his employer understood thankfully.

"Mind your step, Nana." He softly said, as he assisted her on the steps up to their apartment building. Taking her up to the fourth floor would take another ten minutes. He was already running late as it stood. He would call the shop from the apartment and explain. Opening the door, he called out to his mother.

"Mum! Mum, it's me and Nana!" Since the illness had blinded her, she had become fearful of every sound in and around the building.

"Do you think 'Who wants to be a millionaire' is still on?" Nana asked, as he gently sat her down in a chair in the living room. Switching on the TV, he flipped to the correct channel. Lucky for him, the program was only halfway through. Otherwise he would have to wait until her soap came on. Otherwise she might attempt another trip. She often did; visiting long dead friends. The neighbours understood and brought her back, whenever they came across her outside. It didn't stop Jamal from worrying though. Not everyone wouldn't take advantage of an old, addled woman.

"There Nana. I'll be back around eleven, okay? Can you watch out for Mum?" Nana nodded, her bespectacled eyes fixed on the screen. He didn't know why she watched. She didn't know the answers anyway, since she'd never truly interacted with muggles or knew much about them. Going to his mother's room, he sat next to her on the bed. Her once beautiful face was covered in scars and lesions.

"Jamal?" She asked in her weak, reedy voice, her emaciated hand searching for him. Softly he took it. It shamed him how he could feel every bone in it. He'd stopped eating most of his meals, so that she could get as much food as possible. It didn't seem to matter though. She slowly wasted away before his eyes.

"I'm here, Mum." He rubbed her hand in an assuring manner.

"What was all that commotion outside?" She asked a little frightened.

"Don't worry, Mum. A man, Draco Malfoy, came from Salem University. He wanted to find people for his duelling team." He didn't mention the scholarship, since he knew his mother would insist he go. He couldn't. Who would take care of the only members of his family left to him? His father had run off when he'd been five and his grandfather died when he was ten. A year later his mother had fallen ill and since then he'd had to work to keep a roof over their heads. Before his mother could inquire further, there was a knock at the door. Frowning he looked to the wall, behind which the door was. To his chagrin, he heard Nana moving to open. He told her time and again not to, but she always forgot. He quickly got up.

"Nana, don't open!" He called. It was too late however, when he heard a man's voice clearly. Widening his stride, he made his way to his grandmother. Confused he saw it was Malfoy. What was he doing here?

"Yes?" Jamal asked, gently pushing his Nana behind him.

"Mr Smith I have come here to ask you to reconsider my offer." Jamal sighed deeply. He didn't have time for this! He was late and soon his boss wouldn't be able to overlook this.

"I already told you, I can't. I have to take care of my family." Nana pushed past him.

"Nonsense, cupcake. He's the smartest boy around. Ask anyone." Jamal softly led her back to the living room.

"Not now, Nana. Watch your show, okay?" He cajoled. Turning back to Malfoy, he saw that the man hadn't moved from the door. Jamal appreciated it. Some callers simply entered without being asked to do so and it was a pain to get them out. "Listen, Mr Malfoy. I know your offer is beyond generous, but I simply can't…"

"I understand ones duty to one's family, believe me Mr Smith. I am here to offer you help along with the scholarship. Your friends have told me what an extraordinary young man you are and you deserve a chance more than anyone I have met yet. Please, let me help you." Malfoy's eyes had softened considerably and were entreating him. Jamal knew he needed the help offered desperately. The load on his shoulders was slowly crushing him, but he'd been disappointed too often. Help had been promised to him so many times, but never truly given. Before he could decline again, his mother blindly stumbled around the corner. Her thin legs barely able to hold her upright. Malfoy's eyes widened at her state. Shame burned Jamal's face.

"Jamal? Jamal, who was that?! Jamal!" Fright was clear in her voice. Jamal immediately rushed up to her, before she could fall.

"I'm here, Mum. It's Mr Malfoy. The man I told you about earlier." Her head weaved about on her thin neck, her blind eyes trying to see what they could no longer perceive.

"Is he…I'm not presentable, Jamal." Malfoy swallowed and threw Jamal a look, before taking a step inside.

"On the contrary, Mrs Smith. You look lovely." His voice was as soft and non-threatening as he could possibly make it. Slightly flustered Mrs Smith clung to Jamal.

"Thank you Mr Malfoy. Jamal? Could you take me back, please?" Nodding Jamal lifted her easily.

"Of course, Mum. I have to go. Nana is in the living room. I'll be back around eleven. Mrs Cook from next door is home and will help you if needed, okay?" She nodded and kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you, my son." Kissing her brow he nodded.

"Love you too, Mum." He rose and left the apartment with Malfoy in tow. From outside, he locked the apartment tight with a key and several wards. "Nana somehow always gets out, no matter what I do." He blabbered with a shaky smile. Malfoy nodded, but didn't comment on what he had seen. Jamal was grateful for it.

"May I offer you a ride in my car?" The older man asked and Jamal nodded, while they made their way downstairs. In the car, Jamal gave the address of the shop he was working at and Malfoy drove off. For a time, they were silent.

"I meant it, when I offered my help, Jamal. I do not want to belittle your efforts, but both your mother and grandmother need professional help and care." Hitting the dashboard in helpless anger, Jamal turned to the other man.

"Don't you think I know that?! I can't afford it. I'm happy when I can pay the rent on time and buy enough food to keep us from starving. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I'm a failure? That I can't provide for my family?" He screamed it almost. He didn't know where this came from. Normally he was in complete control. Maybe it was because Malfoy had seen. It had made him vulnerable to the other man's judgement. Stepping sharply onto the brakes, Malfoy stopped the car and turned fully to Jamal.

"No, no and no. You are by far one of the strongest young men I have ever met, Jamal. You have had to shoulder responsibilities far too big for one so young. I have more money than I could ever hope to spend. Please let me help you and lift some of that terrible burden that has to be crushing you. I know what it is like to be in over my head, to see no way out. I was about your age, when terrible things were asked of me. A friend offered to help me, but I was too proud to accept and because of it, terrible things happened. I don't want you to make the same experiences I did. I will do nothing without your consent and full involvement." Tears were streaming down Jamal's face and he hated the flare of hope in his chest.

"But if I leave them…they won't understand." Draco shook his head smiling softly.

"You underestimate them, Jamal. I can guarantee you they won't hold it against you, if you think of yourself first for a change. You've taken care of them your entire life when they should have. It's time you let someone else shoulder that burden. I am more than willing and able. Please, let me help you." Sniffing Jamal picked at a loose thread on his jumper.

"How? What do you want to do?" Sitting back with a sigh, Draco mulled it over.

"Move your grandmother to a nice home for the elderly. Close to the campus, so that you can visit her whenever you want. Get your mother to a hospital, so that she can get the treatment she needs." Shaking Jamal tried to deny that this was real. "Jamal, look at me." He slowly raised his eyes and met the quicksilver ones of Malfoy. "Take my hand. I am prepared to give you an Unbreakable Vow here and now, that I will do as promised and get you and your family all the help I can." Jamal's chest constricted and he could barely breathe. Finally the dam burst and he fell crying into the man's shoulder. Softly Draco held him, letting him cry. It must have been terrible for someone so young to carry such enormous responsibility. After a few minutes, Jamal sat up sniffing and rubbed his nose.

"Sorry. I cried all over your shirt." Draco shrugged and started to drive again.

"Don't worry about it. I have hundreds like it. I'm also really nifty with cleaning spells." Jamal hiccoughed a laugh and Draco smiled. "There. We put a smile back on your face. Now, when we get to your workplace, I will talk to your employer so that he will give you the evening off. Then we can start straight away on getting your family the help it needs. Since we're moving your mother and grandmother closer to campus for you, I can talk to the Dean and you can already move into your rooms. How does that sound?" Jamal was still overwhelmed at the course the evening had taken.

"Great Mr Malfoy. Perfect." Draco nodded satisfied.

"Wonderful. Now, if you would excuse me for a moment?" He put an earplug in his right ear and tapped the screen in the dashboard. "Call Dr Van Glinden." Jamal was astounded. Malfoy was really true to his word. Getting started even now! "Good evening Doctor. I hope I am not interrupting? Yes, indeed, I am going to be the new duelling coach at Salem University. I am happy to hear that. Doctor, I know that the hour is late, but might I prevail upon you to make a house call? Not to me, no. The mother of a friend of mine needs urgent medical attention. I would view it as a personal favour Doctor. Harley Street Number seven-seven-eight-one, fourth floor, apartment twelve C. Yes, it is in the South District. We will be waiting for you outside. Thank you Doctor." With another tap of his finger, he hung up. Smiling he threw Jamal a look.

"The good Doctor will be waiting for us, no doubt shaking in his boots, in half an hour. I believe that is sufficient time, don't you?" Jamal nodded, breathing easier than…ever and a smile on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer still applies.**

Chapter 4

Blaise Zabini rose late in the morning, yawning wide and stepping in his dressing gown onto his balcony. The sun had warmed the tiles and his bare feet appreciated it. The sprawling villa his mother had given him for his sixteenth birthday was the perfect retreat. Its remote location in Tuscany helped keeping unwanted visitors away; as did the fact that the nearest village was comprised of muggles only. Sitting at the white enamelled summer table, his personal elf served him breakfast and coffee.

"Thank you, Scusi. Could you please fetch the paper?" The little elf nodded and vanished with a pop, only to appear moments later with the _Daily Prophet_ held in his hands.

"Will Master need anything else?" Blaise shook his head and opened the paper after taking a sip of the strong coffee.

"No, Scusi. Thank you. I will call for you when I am finished." After the elf vanished with another pop, Blaise was alone again, like he preferred for the moment. With a sigh he saw that the _Prophet_ wasn't done with pounding his name into the dirt. He'd been a chaser for the Magpies for five years. His record was exemplary until an 'undisclosed source' accused him of cheating; imbibing potions to increase his strength and stamina, charming his broom to fly better and repel the opposite teams' and of course the sticking charm to his gloves. All of it fat lies of course, but someone at the _Prophet_ had it in for him and wouldn't let the matter rest. In the end it became untenable for the Magpies to retain him as a player, especially since the public was all too eager to believe the slander, due to his background. A former Slytherin and rumoured Death Eater would of course not be able to simply play well, but had to cheat. The funniest thing was, he'd never been a Death Eater and had even agreed to a photo shoot to prove it. It had been no use. He'd been practically booed off the pitch after his last game. Crumpling the paper with a growl, he took a gulp of his coffee.

He'd made fun of Draco for leaving but now he understood. All the rag papers had come calling to his apartment in wizarding London, until it got so bad that he could barely sleep any more. That was when he'd decided to leave England behind for some time and wait until this died down. That was three months ago. While he liked the villa, he missed being around people. Returning to London, where all his friends, sans Draco of course, lived, was not an option. At least not right now.

The hooting of an owl had him look up. He'd seen some owls fly over, but this one seemed headed right towards him. Should be impossible, since the villa was unplottable. Yet the bird proceeded right on its path and landed ostentatiously on the table. Quickly he snapped back his cup, before the blasted owl could upset it and spill its contents. The large owl stretched out its foot, hooting at him to get a move on. Chuckling despite his irritation, he set down his cup.

"All right, all right. Don't get all snippy on me." He grumbled, removing the package from the owl's foot. The contents were wrapped in oilskin, which indicated to him that the owl had probably flown a great distance and that the package had been wrapped thus to protect it from the elements. Severing the ties with his knife, he unwrapped the parcel. He had to admit that he was intrigued. Inside were a cardboard box and a note.

 _Hello old friend,_

 _Get the box open. Inside is a cell phone. It's a muggle device. Don't worry, it will work. You flip it open. The screen should come on. I've enclosed the manual. My number is programmed. You simply need to find my name under contacts and then press the green button._

 _Speak to you soon,_

 _Draco Malfoy._

Surprised Blaise sat back, cradling the note in his hand. Speak of the Devil. He had just been thinking about his old friend. Eagerly he opened the box and inspected the silver device in his hand. He had to admit that it had a certain, sleek appeal to it. Lifting the upper portion, he saw that it indeed flipped open, just as Draco had written. The screen lit up and he inspected it. Rooting with his free hand through the box, he found the manual and flipped through it. Eager to speak to his friend once again, he didn't bother to read anything except how to get to the contacts. Following the instructions to the letter, he quickly got into the correct menu. Since the phone was brand new, only a few numbers had been programmed into it, making it easy for him to find Draco's. Selecting it, he pressed the green button. Suddenly a loud noise blared from the infernal thing, which startled both him and the owl. The bird hissed at it angrily and Blaise could only agree. The tooting that came next however seemed to intrigue the owl and it eyed the phone with a curious gleam in its eye. He held it closer to him, pushing his toast at the owl; hoping to distract it. Luckily the tooting stopped, before anything else could happen.

"Yes?" The sleepy voice brought a smile to Blaise`s face. He'd recognise that voice anywhere.

"It worked!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. Raising the cellophane to his mouth, he yelled into it. "Can you hear me Draco?" Cursing could be heard and the rustling of fabric, followed by a loud thump.

"Yes, you moron, I can hear you. You don't have to scream. Your phone is on speaker, since I know you've never handled one before. You can put it on a table or hold it in front of you and please, **please** , do not scream at it." Chuckling Blaise relaxed into his chair, put the phone on the table and continued sipping his coffee. The owl had cleaned up his toast and was digging into the pastries.

"What in blazes did you think by sending this thing with a randy owl? I swear it was about to hump it when there was this tooting sound." He could hear Draco's chuckling from the phone and ambient noises. He seemed to be getting himself a drink. Frowning Blaise looked at his watch. "What time is it wherever you are anyway?"

"Just about four in the morning. I had a very nice dream." Grinning Blaise looked over his grounds. This was nice. These muggles truly had a way with technimigy or whatever it was called. This was much more comfortable than kneeling in front of a fireplace. And cleaner too. He also had his hands free, which he appreciated.

"I'll bet. Who was the co-star? Daphne or Astoria? Both perhaps?" Draco snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't touch either of them with a stick and you know that. I only was friendly with them because my family wanted it."

"So is that what they call it nowadays? Friendly?" Grumbling was all that was heard for a time and Blaise did his best to suppress his mirth.

"Shut your mouth and don't you dare laugh. I was young, stupid and they were horny and more than willing. What can I say? I'm flesh and blood." Clearing his throat, Blaise nodded, even though Draco couldn't see him.

"Sure. Sorry. I couldn't help myself. What has instigated this gift from you? I haven't heard from you in a long time."

"Not my fault. Who had to move to his unplottable villa after falling from grace in the quidditch world? It took me forever to find an owl that would be able to find you anyway. Your Mum lent it, so that's why it's able to find you. She expects a letter back by the way, which is why it probably isn't moving."

"And eating all of my breakfast too. Bloody bird, should have recognised it. Mum always goes for the bitchy ones." The bird in question was preening itself, after having eaten almost everything on the table. Including the fruit.

"Serves you right for waking me this early. Now get your lazy bum in gear and get packing. I have a job for you." Blaise sat up at this. It seemed as if fate was intervening. In his favour for once.

"What job?" He tried to keep his interest from bleeding into his voice, but he knew Draco would pick up on it anyway.

"A teaching position. You'll be the physical coach for my duelling team. If there is anyone I know, who can get duellists in shape, it's you." It sounded good. And Draco was right. Between the two of them, he had been the one with the better discipline. Despite Blaise's strict schedule, he'd never been able to beat Draco, though the other man was bordering on lazy at times. He'd never quite found out why and simply assumed that Draco trained in secret to irritate Blaise.

"Sounds okay. Where would that be exactly?"

"Salem University in Salem, Massachusetts. You remember I moved to the United States a few years back? Well, I started a company, which is quite successful and then I was offered the position as duelling coach at the university. I decided it was time for something new and accepted. The duelling program is in shambles and I can't pull it off alone. I want to start a program comparable to that of the Aurors and for that to work, the duellists have to be in supreme shape."

"Apart from the fact that they'll need all their strength to keep up with you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Now pack up your stuff and get your arse over here with the next international portkey. Learn how the phone works and give me a call when you arrive. I'll pick you up." Grinning Blaise clapped his hands.

"Sounds like a plan then. Do you have someone for the potions bit, or are you going to do that yourself? With your qualifications you could do it easily."

"No, for that I have someone else in mind. She might be a bit difficult to convince, but from what I've heard, she could use a change of scenery as much as you." At the word 'she', Blaise became intensely interested once more.

"She? Care to elaborate?" Draco gave a deep sigh.

"Might as well. You'll find out sooner or later. I want Granger for the job. There's no question about her being the best and from what I could gather from archive editions of the _Daily Prophet_ she's been having a rough time lately. Hopefully her desire for a respite will be bigger than her contempt for me." Blaise chuckled at that.

"Fat chance of that happening, old boy. But you're right. I was there for most of her nasty break-up with Weasley and I can tell you, the girl needs a change of scenery much more than I. The _Prophet_ is alternating between bashing me and her. I can't understand why though. Everyone knows Weasley's banging everything female that isn't on a tree by the count of five. Why they assume that she was the one who cheated on him, I don't know. I guess it's jealousy. I mean, she **is** awfully smart and lets you know it." Both men chuckled at this.

"I know, but that's no reason to slander her name simply because she's usually right."

"Look who's talking."

"Knock it off, Blaise. I was a prat and so were you, I believe. Are you still going for silent and mysterious?" Again they had to laugh. "Who was she supposed to have been with? I never was able to find a name."

"According to the 'well-informed' sources of the _Prophet_ , it was, get ready for this, Theodore Nott." For a moment both were completely silent, before each broke down in peals of laughter.

"You're joking! Theo the Nancy Nott? Everyone knew by fifth year that he was as gay as they come! Dear Merlin! What idiots they are. He's here as well, did you know? He's an instructor at Peabody Conservatory for Magical Music. Owns a bar there too. He and his cross-dressing boyfriend are quite the show, I can tell you." Moving to the States was looking more and more like a fantastic idea to Blaise.

"Sounds great. When I get there, we'll have to go of course. Wouldn't want to miss that for the world. Good luck with Granger. How are you getting in touch with her anyway?"

"Same way I did with you. She owns a cell phone. Got the number from her parents, when I had my old secretary call them about the job offer."

"Sneaky." Blaise cooed. He had no objections. He would have done it the same way. It was simply the Slytherin way.

"Thank you. It's good to know that I've still got it. Anyway, I am going to call her and ask her to meet me in Aughrim in Ireland. It's neutral middle ground and the _Prophet_ rarely covers events in Ireland. If she's half as capable as she was in Hogwarts, she'll lose them within a heartbeat."

"Sounds good. Good luck to you. Now how do I shut this thing off, so I can get packing and get Scusi to prepare the travelling details?"

"Just flip it shut. It'll hang up automatically. Read the manual before you use it again. See you soon."

"Bye Draco!" He yelled, just for the heck of it and quickly snapped the phone shut. Snickering he got up and retied the sash on his dressing gown. "Scusi! I'm leaving."

Hermione Granger was furious. With the world, the people in it and herself. The months after her break-up with Ron had been hell. All believed the drivel he'd been spouting. As if she would ever cheat! What hurt her more than anything had been that most of her so-called friends believed the lies. Only few stood by her. Chief among them Harry. They were like brother and sister. Ginny, as Harry's wife, had a harder time. On one hand there was her loyalty to familial bonds and on the other was her clear knowledge of Hermione's morals and her brother's temperament. Luna didn't really care what the public thought and made her own decisions about everything. She considered Hermione her friend no matter what. When Ron had approached her after the break-up, she'd smiled at him in her whimsical way to then slug him without any warning. If things got particularly bad, Hermione thought back to that moment. It provided her still with no end of entertainment.

Leaving her offices at the Ministry, she steeled herself to run the daily gauntlet of nosy co-workers and the odd reporter, hoping to catch her with a man. It rankled that they wouldn't leave her alone, since she had to put her life on hold. While Ron could fuck around as much as he wanted, she was painted as a scarlet woman if she dared to take lunch with a man or speak to one for any length of time. She was sick of it to be honest and despite her loving her job, the constant stress sucked any enjoyment she could possibly get out of it. Sighing deeply, holding her head down, she pulled the lapels of her coat higher. It was a small attempt, but it was better than nothing. The entire Ministry was spelled against any forms of disguise, ranging from polyjuice to appearance altering charms. Steeling herself, she entered the atrium. She'd petitioned for a temporary floo link between her office and her apartment. It had been denied due to security reasons. What good was it being a war hero, if she didn't get anything out of it? She'd never asked for any preferential treatment before and now that she once did, it was denied. Ron hadn't had such compulsions and had thus risen quickly within the ranks of the Aurors. Hermione had only disgust for this. Ron's capabilities were not in accordance with his position. It would lead to problems in the future she knew. It had already started. He'd sent Aurors for a search and arrest, without the proper warrants in place. Due to that a criminal almost walked, had it not been for more experienced Aurors picking up the slack. Finally some of them started to see the light. Ron had made himself popular by buying many rounds for them at their usual pub and handing out Quidditch tickets. This popularity was wearing off. Mainly because he had used up most of the reward he'd received for being integral in the downfall of Voldemort.

Hermione smiled a little as she blended with the crowd. She'd chosen precisely this time of the evening to leave, since four departments got off their shift now. It meant that over a hundred people were pressing towards the floo grates and she was simply one among many. For a change she got home without being bothered. Stepping out of her high heels, she groaned in pleasure as her feet sunk into the thick, soft carpet. She sometimes hated those infernal things, but they gave her a few extra inches and they made her butt and breasts look fabulous. She'd needed some ego stroking after her break-up. It had ended in a shopping spree of epic proportions, which Ginny had been more than happy to help with. Next stop had been a spa holiday at an exclusive retreat in Switzerland, where she had spent two blissful weeks of relaxation. One of the beauty witches there had shown her a simple, nifty spell to tame her hair and now they finally behaved and fell in dark, auburn waves down her back.

Walking into her kitchen, she poured herself a glass of red wine and picked up her phone. She was wavering between the Italian restaurant down the block and the Thai place a few streets over. Before she could decide however, the phone in her hand rang. Raising an eyebrow she looked at the screen, but it only showed an unknown number. The prefix told her it was a call from the United States, which confused her even more. She didn't know anyone living there, let alone someone who knew how to operate a phone.

"Hello? Hermione Granger speaking." She answered politely. Maybe someone was trying to call a friend or relative and had simply gotten some of the numbers mixed up.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. This is Draco Malfoy." Stunned she almost lost hold of her wineglass. Malfoy?! What the hell was he doing calling her? And how did he get her number?

"Malfoy? What…why are you calling me? How did you get this number? Since when do you own a phone? What is the meaning of this?" His deep voice chuckled directly in her ear and she shivered a little. God! It had been much too long for her, if Malfoy's voice could do this to her.

"If you would let me get a word in, I can explain. However I would ask you to hear me out and not hang up immediately." Huffing she leaned to her kitchen counter and took a sip of the wine.

"Fine. I promise. Now tell me what this is about."

"Eager much, are we?"

"Only to get rid of you, so spill. Why are you calling me?"

"Very well. I have recently had the privilege to be asked to head the duelling program at Salem University. They do not have a proper program here, like the one we have for Aurors. I want to change that. For that I need the best potioneer available and that is you, Granger. I know that you might be sceptical about this, but I assure you that this is a genuine offer. I will send you the Dean's contact information by owl, so that you can confirm it with him. I already informed him that you might contact him. If you are willing to consider the offer, I would ask you to meet me in person in Aughrim, Ireland. It's neutral territory and the _Prophet_ reporters don't go there that often. The reporters of the _Irish Sentinel_ are quite territorial and they don't cover your break-up with the Weasel any more."

"Been checking up on me, were you?" He snorted.

"Of course. I had to make sure that you at least would consider the position." Mulling it over, she moved to her living room and sat down on her couch.

"I admit that it does sound enticing and I am sure that you know due to your research that I could use a change of scenery. What is the catch?"

"No catch. It's a genuine job offer. No strings or ulterior motives. I've changed, Granger. For Merlin's sake, I'm talking to you over a muggle phone! If you agree to meet with me, we can go to a muggle restaurant or bar. I'll have you know that I even own a car and know how to drive it too." This elicited a small laugh from her at his faux exasperated tone.

"All right, all right. I guess I buy that you indeed have changed. Time doesn't go by any of us, without changing us. Maybe even you took the time to grow up."

"You wound me, Granger. I assure you that I look as good as ever, if I do say so myself. Now, will you meet me?" Sighing she picked at her skirt. Moving to the US seemed like a good idea. She would finally get some peace and be able to teach. Something she'd wanted to do for a while now. Yes, she could do that for a couple of years and return, when all the excitement died down. But then she'd have to work for Malfoy. Malfoy! Was she able to do that? What would the few remaining friends she still had say? Was it worth it to risk her last friendships? Especially her relationship with Harry.

"Send me the Dean's info. I have to talk to him and some others. I'll write down your number and give you a call once I've made my decision."

"Very well. That sounds fair. I would need an answer by the end of the week. You can call anytime. I always have my cell phone on me. Take your time and call me. Have a nice evening, Granger."

"You too, Malfoy." She answered automatically out of courtesy and hung up. First now she realised she hadn't asked him how he knew her number, but that was a question she could ask at a later date. Right now she had to contemplate the offer he'd made.

The next day, Hermione had made arrangements to meet with Harry for lunch. In the evening she would be talking to her parents. That should cover the people closest to her. Despite being distracted by her warring thoughts on Malfoy's offer, her lab partner would never have known that she wasn't concentrating one-hundred per cent on her work. Looking at the clock, she noticed that time had practically flown by. Securing her work station, she collected her handbag and hung up her lab coat. By mutual consent she and Harry were going to meet in a muggle café, quite a ways from wizarding London. Despite the hype around Harry having died down, it was still hard for him to go about unbothered in public. Random people would still walk up to him to congratulate him, ask for a photo or signature, or ask him to tell war stories. Stories he tried to forget. Their soirées into muggle London assured them both peace and privacy. Few wizards would follow them, since they still felt uncomfortable about being among non-wizarding folk. Especially since the statute of secrecy did not allow for them to use magic even once.

When she arrived separate from Harry, she noticed that she was the first of the two of them and chose to sit in a spot at the back. Just to be safe. The waitress greeted her with a smile and Hermione decided to order a drink and opened her notebook. It would help her pass the time, until Harry arrived. She had arrived early and took the time to arrange her thoughts. Her notebook for once didn't contain formulas and instructions for new potions, but rather a list of pros and cons for the job offered to her by Malfoy. The con list was about equal with the pro list, but the con list had one important point on it. Malfoy would be her boss. Could she deal with that? He had professed to have changed, but had he really? His use of a telephone to contact her had indicated as much. She was simply unsure to what extent this change had gone. Was he still a superior prick with an insufferable attitude problem. Sighing she made a line under his name and put an exclamation mark behind his name.

"Hard at work?" Harry's voice pulled her from her musings and she smiled up at her childhood friend. He'd grown into his gangly teenage body. His broad shoulders indicated the power in his upper body. His hair was as unruly as ever, a trait he had given on to his male progeny, much to Ginny's dismay. His green eyes were smiling at her and she quickly forgave him his slight insult of her work ethics. Rising with a smile of her own, she hugged him.

"Harry. Yes, if you must know. But this time not for the Ministry, as shocking as it might seem." Chuckling he sat down. She took a seat opposite him and both ordered their lunch. The café was all about fresh and healthy food, which Harry didn't like all that much, but 'endured' for her. She didn't believe it all that much. He dug in well enough when their food arrived.

"So, what is this extremely important business you absolutely had to talk about in complete privacy?" Swallowing, she took a sip from her tea.

"I received a job offer from an unusual source yesterday evening." He inclined his head.

"Mysterious, but do go on." Taking a deep breath, she decided to do it quick. Like removing a band aid.

"Malfoy called me." At this he stopped mid-chew and she was happy that he hadn't been in the process of swallowing anything.

"What do you mean, Malfoy called you? Called you how?"

"On my telephone if you can believe it." Her smile was forced and also a little scared. Despite Harry having testified in Malfoy's favour at his trial, the other man was still much of a red flag to her best friend. Instead of blowing his gasket however, he simply sat there, looking at her.

"Harry? Please say something. You're starting to scare me." She asked nervously. Swallowing his bite of food, he took a sip from his coffee and sat back.

"Can I assume he was the one to offer you the job?" He seemed calm and that was when he was at his most dangerous. She could see the barely leashed anger in his eyes. Hermione knew to tread carefully at this point, but it angered her as well. It was absolutely ridiculous that Harry still harboured that much enmity towards his childhood enemy. Also, this job would give her the chance to finally live a life of peace. Who was Harry to judge her on this? Sure, he had risked everything to bring Voldemort down, but so had she. She'd almost lost her life on more than one occasion, risked her life countless times and kept his secrets at the risk of losing her own sanity. He had his happiness now in form of Ginny and his children, but hers still eluded her. Didn't she deserve the same?

"Yes, he was. Do you have a problem with that?" She asked, aggressiveness resonating through her voice. He crossed his arms petulantly, his jaw set. For a time they both simply stared at each other. Hermione was prepared to continue this all day. This once, she was not going to back down. For a long, long time she had always put his goals first. Well, it was Hermione-time now.

"What the fuck, Hermione?" He finally exclaimed. Grinding her teeth, her eyes flashed and he finally caught on to how angry she truly was. With a quick wave of her wand, she had seen to it they wouldn't be disturbed or could be listened in on. He also noticed that he could no longer move. With widening eyes he knew that he was in it deep.

"Now listen up, Harry James Potter! For the last years I have been the constant target of ridicule and innuendo. People I considered to be my friends shunned me; accused me of being a slut in public. No one spoke up in my favour. You did. Once. In the past, I always took your side, always had your back. Never once did I ask anything of you in return. I can understand that you only want peace and quiet, but at what cost to me? I've given up years of my life for you and now that an old, _**childhood**_ enemy offers me a way out, you do not even give me the courtesy of a few minutes to explain!" By now her chest was heaving and her eyes were swimming. Breathing deep, she held the tears at bay. She wouldn't guilt him into submission. He would listen to her arguments and concede her point. As simple as that.

"Hermione I…I am sorry. I never believed those stories. You know that. Everyone kept telling me how important I was and I guess I believed when I told them once that everything they wrote was false, everyone else would simply fall in line. I guess I was as taken in with my own importance as Ron was. I…didn't know how hard it had been on you and I should have. I was a rotten friend and you are right that I should have given you a chance to explain. Please. Give me a chance to be the friend you deserve." His eyes had softened and as always, this had also a calming effect on her. Releasing him from her spell, she sighed deep and cupped her tea mug in her hands.

"It's…It's a chance, Harry. A chance to finally live in peace without having people following me everywhere. Without them passing judgement on me, without even knowing me. You had it easier. Your life took the turns you wanted and I am glad that it did. I want a chance at that as well. Malfoy's job would take me to the United States. A few years away from here would take me away from it all. It will give the _Prophet_ and others time to forget about me. When I return to Britain, I could live a life of peace. But for that to happen, I need to leave. I have thought about it before, but I never had an offer that enticed me. Malfoy offered me a teaching position. He's been named the duelling instructor at a prestigious university and wants to establish program similar to that of the Aurors there. The Americans don't seem to have one.

"It's a terrific offer. Even if I decide not to take it, a vacation there might give me the opportunity to look for work there elsewhere. I need some time away." He listened to her without interrupting.

"I can see your point and it is true that the offer sounds good. And not to anger you again, but Malfoy?" She nodded and raised her hand, before he could even start to list Malfoy's many grievances against the both of them.

"I know, I know. Can I trust the offer, or that he even told the truth. I've been checking up on him. After his release from Azkaban he tried to get a job. No one would hire an ex-convict and an ex-Death Eater. He took most of his inheritance and left for the United States. Something his father apparently wasn't all too happy about. I heard from a reliable source though that the elder Malfoy hasn't much of a say anymore in family matters. Malfoy Industries is run by Narcissa now and Draco's established it in the United States. What I heard from my contacts there about it, I could barely believe. Did you know that his company hires everyone? And I mean **everyone**! Squibs, half-bloods, muggleborns, half-breeds, you name it. He's made a squib his successor as CEO when he left to take the teaching position. That alone indicates to me that he has changed tremendously." She studied his face as she explained. She didn't miss the astonishment in his face. It was hard not to. His jaw had nearly hit the table.

"Well. That…seems like quite the change. What do you think happened to precipitate this?" Pushing a piece of lettuce around on her plate, she shrugged.

"Two years in Azkaban? The war itself? You know as well as I do that he wasn't a willing participant in the end. At first maybe, but as soon as he knew what it entailed being a Death Eater, he would have run or defected if he could. He was well and caught though, when he realised it with no way out. His silence in the drawing room the only thing he was capable of. He was a teenage boy in over his head. I'm not saying that this means all is forgiven, but I understand much better where he came from." A slanted smile was now on his face, which had her frowning. "What?" Chuckling he shook his head and took another sip from his coffee.

"Sounds to me as if you've already made up your mind." Surprised she sat back a little slack-jawed now herself.

"I…well…it's…" Her problem to actually articulate herself had Harry laughing.

"This is a first. Hermione Granger speechless. By me as well." She slapped his arm in acceptance and slight reprimand of his mirth.

"Stop it. All right, I accept that my research has made me more optimistic about this opportunity but it doesn't change the fact that this is Malfoy we're talking about. Sure, it seems that he has changed, but is it his views about people that he has changed or was it simple practicality that spurred his idea to hire wizards and witches from all walks of life? That is something I still need an answer to." Sighing deeply, she looked into her teacup. "I will talk to my parents about this tonight; hear what they have to say about it. I've never told them what I face daily, but I think they know. God knows how. If they have a positive attitude about it, I guess I will accept Malfoy's offer of a meeting." At this, he frowned in suspicion.

"A meeting? Where?"

"In Aughrim, Ireland. He's even willing to go somewhere muggle. It will prevent this whole thing from being noticed by the _Prophet_. Have you any idea what they would make of it, if they got any information on it?" Chuckling, but with a grimace, he nodded.

"Oh, I have an inkling. Now I understand why you wanted to meet here. I think it's a good idea though. You get to see what he's truly like now. I say go meet with him and if you feel that it's worth it, then go. You of all people deserve some happiness. We will still be here when you come back. And it's not as if we couldn't visit." Smiling brightly she took his hand warmly in hers. She knew that whatever she decided upon, he would support her. That's what friends were for.

For the first time in years, Draco Malfoy felt nervous about a meeting. Blaise noticed the barely perceptible signs, while Dean McPherson wasn't as familiar with Malfoy's mannerisms to see it himself. Zabini had arrived within the same day of Malfoy's call in America and introduced himself to the Dean. McPherson didn't exactly know what to make of the tall, dark Italian, but had trusted in Malfoy's talent and knowledge concerning the hiring of Zabini. All three of them were now, a week later, waiting in the muggle district of Aughrim and waiting for the arrival of Hermione Granger. At first, Malfoy had wanted to meet alone with her. In their subsequent telephone conversation she had practically demanded that the Dean and any other party involved in the program is present. It made perfect, logical sense. Get all the affected parties together and see if a consensus can be reached.

Nervously McPherson tugged at his suit jacket for the umpteenth time. Both Slytherins of course noticed, but Draco was too polite to mention it. Blaise however wasn't.

"What is the matter, Dean McPherson?" He asked kindly.

"I've rarely been in complete muggle environs. To top it off my daughter insisted I wear this suit. My wife agreed and was well on her way to throw out my robes and cloaks, because she said it made me look more dignified and modern." He snorted. "And do you think I got any help from my son? Oh no! He and my ungrateful daughter supported her all the way. I had to put sticking charms on my hangers to keep my wardrobe intact." The indignant rant had the younger men chuckling and trying to keep their grins as small as possible.

"Women. You cannot live with them and you can't live without them." Blaise commented wisely, looking up at the grey skies. Frowning both McPherson and Malfoy threw him a glance. Looking at each other, they shook their heads and continued to look out at the street, despite McPherson not really knowing what he was looking for. He'd never seen this Miss Granger before, but from what Malfoy had told him and what his own research had shown him, she was a highly capable potioneer and was currently attached to the British Wizarding Ministry. Six patents were currently running in her name, with about four more in the process of being tested. Not all were for potions. She had been the one to figure out how to use muggle appliances in wizarding environs. This patent alone had made her an extremely wealthy woman. McPherson had been on board with hiring her as soon as he saw this. With such an ingenious mind at the University, their money problems should be over soon. While the university wasn't struggling in that department, it was always good to have a little more than one needed for extra expenses and upgrades. Some of the labs could do with new equipment and the library was in constant need of new material. Malfoy had however insisted on the meeting. He wanted to make sure that all parties were in agreement and that all would get along. With a sigh Blaise took a look at his watch.

"Where the hell is she? I thought I'd never see the day Granger would be late." A feminine chuckle had them turn around.

"I was on time, Zabini. You however are at the wrong spot." Zabini and Malfoy were completely gob-smacked This was not how they remembered the bookish Hermione Granger. McPherson was the only one with a polite smile on his face. He stretched out his hand for a greeting.

"Miss Granger. Dean Anthony McPherson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I have only heard the very best of you." With a pleasant smile, Hermione took the offered hand and gave it a shake.

"How gallant of you Dean McPherson. Thank you and yes, I am indeed Miss Hermione Granger. I doubt though that those two had much good to say about me. We were bitter rivals in school." She gave them all an impish smile. It hit Blaise and Draco like a brick in the face. It implied that she didn't hold any grudge. Could it be that she was prepared to forgive them? Swallowing they barely managed to get their jaws to shut. McPherson took them in with a frown, while Hermione practically preened due to their astonished gazes. Oh yeah. This was exactly what her ego needed. The two best looking boys from her year speechless at her appearance. With a shake of his head, Blaise regained his faculties and took her hand to place a soft kiss on the back.

"You look stunning, Granger." He complimented, throwing her a wink. Smirking in the very best Slytherin tradition she nodded and stood a little straighter.

"Thank you, Zabini. You don't look too bad yourself." At her unexpected, but positive reply, he stood straight, beaming at her. All three turned expectantly to Draco, who was still in the process of assembling his wits. Could it truly be that this vision of loveliness was Granger? He took her in from top to bottom. Her toned legs were made longer by the black high-heeled pumps. The pinstripe skirt and jacket completed the professional outfit. Her classy, ivory silk blouse and the string of pearls around her neck were demure, but classic and somehow managed to illicit all sorts of naughty scenarios in his head. Her body had filled out in all the right places. After the war she had been a little on the scrawny side, due to the months of hardship she'd had to endure. None of that was visible now. Her skin had a healthy glow, her face clear and with a light amount of make-up around her enchanting, deep brown eyes. Her former unruly bush of hair was now falling in a cascade of shining auburn curls down her back. A lock was hanging slightly in her face and it itched in Draco's fingers to tuck it behind her ear. Shaking himself slightly, he took her hand to greet her properly as well. Granger would hardly appreciate him touching her so intimately. Unlike Blaise he simply indicated a kiss to her hand, since direct skin to skin contact was inappropriate. Blaise knew that very well, but he'd always been an incorrigible flirt. This close to her skin he couldn't however help himself and breathed deep. Her perfume was an unobtrusive, ephemeral floral scent with just a touch of vanilla. It made him wonder what her skin tasted like, which was an absolutely inappropriate thought to have. Especially since they hadn't seen each other in such a long time and had parted on such unfortunate terms. He had to suppress a chuckle at his own thoughts. Unfortunate terms? If one would call him being sent to Azkaban and her finally being able to enjoy her life for a while, after being constantly harassed by him unfortunate terms, well then yes.

Hermione smiled at Blaise's and Malfoy's antiquated greeting. It was so typical of the progeny of old, pureblood families. Since the end of the war those families had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the twenty-first century. Not that the younger generation complained all that much. Sure, they were proud of being able to trace their family back many generations, but they were easier to convince that some traditions were not worth keeping. Hermione was glad that the elegant manners bred into the higher families' children weren't one of them.

"I hope you are hungry, gentlemen. I took the liberty of booking a table for us at the Grainstore at the Meath Arms. I am told it is the best restaurant in town." McPherson turned to Malfoy with a horrified expression.

"Mr Malfoy! That is no way to treat a lady. The arrangements should have been made by us." He exclaimed. Smiling Hermione took his offered arm and patted it consolingly.

"Please Dean McPherson do not be upset at Mr Malfoy. I insisted on making the arrangements. Both Mr Malfoy and Mr Zabini are not that familiar with muggles and how to deal with them. I freely offered my services and if it will assuage your sensibilities, you may invite me to dinner." Smiling at her, he nodded.

"Indeed, I will. If only to assure you that I do have better manners than those two." She laid her head back with a laugh, while leading the three men through the streets of Aughrim to their destination.

"My honour will be assured with a gentleman as yourself by my side. God knows what people were to think if they knew I had spent time alone with those scoundrels." Blaise smirked and shook his head, while softly nudging a grumbling Draco in the side.

"We can hear you Granger." He commented. Looking over her shoulder at them, she shrugged.

"So? Was any of it a lie?" Fluttering her lashes, she gave them an innocent smile, to turn back to her conversation with McPherson. Draco said nothing, but simply stared at her. Blaise shook his head with a wry smile and turned to his friend to begin his own discussion, but stopped at Draco's facial expression.

"She certainly is fit, isn't she?" He whispered to Draco, while leaning over, so that the other two wouldn't hear. Jerking, Draco stared at Blaise.

"What?!" Suppressing a laugh, Blaise motioned to the woman in front of them.

"You know exactly what I mean. Come on! Even a celibate as you has to notice that Granger sure has grown in all the right places. That body is every male's wet dream. If the Dean does hire her, the male students will have a hell of a time concentrating around her. Half of them will be in love with her after their first lesson." Smiling impishly he watched his good friend. The slight tightening of the eyes was as tell-tale to Blaise as if Draco had shouted out loud. By Slytherin's pink undies! Draco Malfoy fancied Granger. Not that Blaise could blame him. As he'd said, she was fit. Sexy in that stern librarian kind of way. While he liked that from time to time, it wasn't exactly his type. He was more of a free spirit like his mother. Taking his pleasure where he could get it and moving on. Some of the women he'd dated had understood that their relationship was only a temporary thing, until both found something more interesting. He was still in contact with them and they got together from time to time to relive some of the memories.

But Draco was another breed altogether. In more ways than one. Blaise knew that Draco preferred a good conversation to a quick shag any day. Unless there was a certain intellectual compatibility, Draco would only use a woman's interest to get physical release and nothing more. No matter how much the women tried to cling to him. Pansy had found that out rather late. It had put a considerable damper on their friendship but Blaise knew that Draco had tried to explain it to her many times over the years. She'd only seen herself as Draco's future wife though and refused to listen. It wasn't really a fault of hers though. Both hers and Draco's parents had told her time and again that the both of them would be married, as soon as they left school. That of course had never happened, thank Merlin. What a disaster that would have been. Pansy's parents were among those who had been placed under house arrest, while she was free for the first time in her life to make her own decisions. Like most of the pureblood teens of that generation, Pansy had gone on an extended binge. Experimenting with everything her parents had formerly forbidden her. It mainly involved muggles or their inventions. Those had been glorious years in Blaise's memory, though a little fuzzy around the edges. They were drunk off their asses or high most of the time. He'd been lucky to be accepted as a quidditch player, when he got his act back together, while most of the other Slytherins were still without a job. Some of them could afford it. Others couldn't. Their families not nearly wealthy enough to allow a generation or two to simply do nothing. It had led to many of them leaving England to the Ministry's belated chagrin, since they took their wealth with them. He knew that many of the others were either living in France or Germany. The Ministries there kept an eye on them, but didn't interfere with their lives half as much as the British Ministry was wont to do.

Now he was making the jump himself. He'd already ordered the transfer of most his fluent assets to the United States, asking the Goblins to choose a bank they trusted there. He wasn't interested enough in banking to know which was good or bad. He simply wanted his money to be safe and available. If needed, he could always ask Draco for advice, he knew. The other man had an almost uncanny ability to read the market. This ability had been in the family for generations, which explained the obscene amount of money the Malfoys were worth. Even the enormous reparations they had to pay, the Ministry had barely scratched the tip of the iceberg that was the combined Malfoy/Black fortune. Malfoys only accepted the best, since they could very well afford it.

In short order they reached their destination. The restaurant was housed within an old pub, which proudly announced that it had been in the family since 1728. There were of course older establishments in Britain, but that this one had been owned by the same family for so long was no mean feat. Entering the courtyard, they saw the entrance. Inside they were warmly welcomed by a rosy cheeked young woman, who led them to their table straight away. The room had whitewashed walls with strong wooden beams running through it and over their heads in the ceiling. While being very traditional, there were modern accents here and there, achieving quite a harmonious equilibrium of homey familiarity. After they had ordered and their waiter left them, they dared to return to their discussion.

"Mr Malfoy has already informed me that he wishes to start a program similar to that of the Aurors at your university, Dean McPherson. He has also explained my part in this, but I would like to hear what you have to say on this matter." Nodding, McPherson took a sip from his water and leaned forward. He felt a little uncomfortable talking about this in muggle surroundings, but trusted the others to give him a sign if he did something wrong.

"After Mr Malfoy explained his aim with the program to me, I contacted the Guard Chief of Salem. They are our equivalent to your Aurors. He was intrigued by the proposition of pre-trained Guards for elite objectives. For the moment Guards-in-training are educated on the job. They receive an orientation and most go through a fitness test as well as a test of their magical ability. As far as I understood Mr Malfoy, this program goes much further. Not only will it prepare the students physically, but mentally as well. Not only concerning spells, but also tactics and potions. For the moment the Guard utilises potions provided to them by the city. They considered hiring their own potioneer but the expenses would have been too high. It simply wasn't in the budget. Now if one of the Guard were to be a potioneer in his own right, that would change the entire equation.

"All in all, the Guard Chief was impressed with the program and would like to have some of his younger Guards-in-training attend some of the classes. Mr Malfoy has already warned me that they would have to pass another barrage of tests by him and Mr Zabini, though I do not see a problem there. I met one of them and he seems to be a capable young man. I always thought duelling teams rather frivolous to have and superfluous, but with this program they actually serve a purpose and we could possibly start a trend, making cities all over the US safer." The gleam in his eye told her that he was very enthusiastic. She had to give it to Malfoy that he'd sold the program well.

"You do know that a program of this magnitude would cost a lot of money. The supplies for my lab alone will run up a pretty tab." She warned. With a smile McPherson turned to Malfoy, who had sat rigidly in his chair all the time.

"I have agreed to fund the program by myself, until the Board and the Guard Chief see its merits. I have lived in the United States for some time now and while they do have special guards to take care of the more dangerous criminals, they are few, have no standard training procedure and are getting on in years. The average age of a Special Response Guard is forty or older. This worked for some time, but the wizarding population in the US is steadily growing and they soon won't be able to cover the entire country." Nodding in thought, Hermione absently took a sip from her water.

"Under these circumstances you are right and something must be done. With a little manoeuvring it might even be possible to get the American Ministry to chip in. They must see the need they have for well-trained law enforcement officers." Sitting back, they stopped their deliberations to wait for the meals to be served. After the waiter left again, Hermione sat forward again.

"Okay. I give it to you that the program has merit and is needed. Now to the hard part. Negotiations for my wage and the stipulations attached to my position." A new light ignited in Draco's eyes. Negotiations were his forte. His sharp wit and logical mind had assured him many profitable business deals. Leaning forward himself, he and Hermione locked stares.

"Very well then Granger. I hope you are prepared." Snorting she gave him a mocking smile.

"I hope you are." She simply said and they started.

Blaise sat opposite McPherson, while Draco and Granger haggled like a pair of fish mongers. He was enjoyed to discover that his old friend seemed to have found a match in the razor sharp Hermione Granger. McPherson looked between them with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth. He had been present for some hard negotiations, had led some himself, but it was nothing compared to the highly evolved and capable discussions these two were having. He felt like a complete beginner next to them and didn't dare interrupt, though some of the points were his to make. He needn't worry though, since Malfoy brought them up expertly. Miss Granger however poked holes into his offers wherever she could and asked for specifics, where most would simply assume it was included. He developed a whole new respect for this highly intelligent woman.

"It's fun to watch, isn't it?" Blaise asked and raised his glass at the Dean. Shaking his head a little, McPherson managed a feeble smile.

"It's…impressive." He muttered. "I wouldn't have thought of half of this." He admitted. Blaise grinned, waving it off.

"No one would have. Except those two. Anal as they are." He received a slap to the head from both, without either of them looking over or losing their place in the argument they were currently having, concerning monthly allowances for experiments. McPherson chuckled, while Blaise threw the two a dark glance. Shrugging he continued to eat.

"Don't worry Dean McPherson. Your interests are well represented, though I think that Miss Granger will get something more out of her contract than I got out of mine." He winked with an impish smile. Chuckling, both men clinked glasses; completely ignored by the bickering couple.

The negotiations carried on through coffee, but after four hours of Malfoy and Hermione delving into the depths of double meanings and technicalities the contract was agreed upon. She would offer a second class for all interested in applied potions for an extra stipend. All patents filed while employed by Salem University would be split equally. She would have full control over her curriculum and would be able to choose her students; none could be forced on her. McPherson was a little green around the gills about the freedoms Granger would have in her position as teacher, but he also knew that she would be a tremendous asset to the university. The money spent would quickly come back in, since he had been able to find out that she was close to finishing another potions project, which she would be able to patent within the next two months. At which point she would already be an employee of the University.

Outside the restaurant they all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Blaise kissed her hand once more, while waggling his eyebrows and offered that she could stay in his apartment until she found one of her own. McPherson was a little scandalised at this offer, but Hermione's laugh at Zabini's offer had him relax. Malfoy had warned him that his friend was a flirt, but had assured the Dean that it wouldn't become a problem. Blaise would never flirt with a student or do anything with her for that matter. That would probably not stop hordes of girls from following Zabini around. Though this would also be true for Malfoy.

"Very well, gentlemen. Since we have finalised the details, I will prepare everything and we will meet again in Salem for the signing of the contract. I should be able to move within two weeks. Should there be any delays, I will inform you. Will this be acceptable?" McPherson nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course Miss Granger. I will take the liberty of enquiring about an apartment for you. Do you have any preferences?" Smiling she turned to him. He was a kind man and she had no doubt they would have a good relationship.

"Thank you Dean McPherson. That would be most kind of you. I would simply like to have enough space. Mr Malfoy and Mr Zabini can possibly help you. I would need a big room only for my books as they can attest. I would also need a specially warded room to conduct experiments. If you only find something within a muggle area it's not a problem. I can ward the rooms myself if need be." McPherson nodded slowly. He was a little worried about having to approach muggles and possibly even having to spend longer time in non-wizarding environs. He would enlist the help of his children. They were more familiar with muggles and could help him no doubt.

"Not to worry Miss Granger. When you arrive in Salem everything will be prepared for you. Please do not worry and only concentrate on your packing and enjoy the next weeks with your family and friends." Hermione had to smile once more because of McPherson. Malfoy was the last to approach Hermione. She was a little taken aback at his intense gaze. His eyes locked on hers and she felt a strange prickle running up her spine. She felt somewhat like a deer in the headlights. With lithe grace he stepped closer to her, taking her hand into his. He slid it up his torso and once more mimed a kiss.

"I look forward to seeing you in Salem, Granger." He said with a deeper voice than usual, which made Hermione wonder. What was he playing at? Throwing a glance over Malfoy's shoulder at Blaise, she got no answer. The other man only shrugged. Clearing her throat, she took a step back.

"Well…then I wish you a good day gentlemen. Until in two weeks." She turned away and started off towards the wizarding district of Aughrim. From there she would take the next portkey back to London. Already her mind was buzzing with all the things she had to do. Packing up her belongings; cancelling the lease on her apartment, as well as taking off all the spells she'd put on it; closing her floo connection; handing in her resignation with the Ministry, and that was only the things concerning her magical connections. She also had to cancel her cell phone contract, as well as the contract for her telephone and internet connection. She needed to sell her car and all the other things needed to be done within two weeks. The moment she got home, she would need to put together a list and prioritise. A niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her to also figure out what this last stunt from Malfoy meant. It was a rather radical change from him concerning their previous interactions. Definitely worth more thought.

Back at the street corner the three men started to walk towards the wizarding district themselves. They kept close, since none of them were that experienced navigating muggle streets. They got honked at twice for trying to cross a street, while it was red for pedestrians. After those shocks they made it to the wizarding district, where they immediately frequented the closest pub and fortified themselves with several shots of Firewhiskey. McPherson left first, since he still had paperwork waiting for him. Blaise took this opportunity to talk privately with Draco.

"So…Granger, huh?" He asked, nipping at his latest glass of Firewhiskey. Confused Draco turned to him.

"What about her?" Snorting Blaise turned the small shot glass with the tips of his fingers.

"Come on, mate. I saw how you were looking at her. And that goodbye you gave her? Not really subtle." Draco frowned deeper and watched as Blaise emptied his glass.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Really? Is this how you are going to play this? She's right up your alley, mate. Intelligent, sophisticated, good looking and more than able to take you on. You can't tell me you didn't notice." A little uncomfortable Draco shifted in his seat.

"I did notice, but you remember we are talking about Granger here. There is no way in hell she would ever consider someone like me."

"What? A handsome bloke with more money than he can possibly spend in a millennium and who's possibly as intelligent as her? Ah right. There is no way she would ever be interested in you." Chuckling Blaise shook his head. "How thick can you be?" Scowling Draco looked into the remains of his drink.

"You forgot ex-Death Eater and ex-convict. She deserves someone who doesn't remind her of the war or the terrible things she was forced to go through. Not to mention how beastly I was to her in school." Snorting Blaise waved his protests off.

"Merlin, Draco. You really are dredging deep for negative reasons. I doubt that she holds the war or anything that happened during it against you. If she did, I doubt she would have been as civil, dare I say friendly, to you as she was. As for you having been in prison; so what?! It only shows that you've paid your dues." Draco shook his head again, bitter regret on his face.

"You don't understand Blaise. You weren't as involved as I. After the war the name Malfoy equalled hate everywhere. If I hadn't been in prison, people would have hexed me on the street. When I was released there were protests in Diagon Alley to put me back in. They had to arrange for special transport via portkey directly to the Manor because they were afraid that someone would attempt to kill or injure me. I could only go to Diagon Alley in disguise. The one time I tried to go without, I was beaten within an inch of my life. St Mungo's had to register me under a false name and changed my hair colour so none of the orderlies would attempt to finish me off. Why do you think I left?! In the US I can go about undisturbed due to the simple fact that they do not know what I did." Blaise lowered his head. He hadn't known about his friend's troubles or that they were so severe.

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me? I doubt that I could have helped you with your public reception, but I at least could have kept you company." Chuckling darkly Draco downed his Firewhiskey in one.

"It wasn't your burden to bear." He said darkly. Snorting derisively Blaise sat back.

"Knock it off, Draco! All that penance crap is shit and you know it. You did wrong, you went to prison, end of story. It is clear from your behaviour since then that you have changed. If certain people are too thick to realise that then it is their loss. Stop flogging yourself. This 'woe me' behaviour is not necessary. If you feel an apology is required, then apologise. You've done all you can then and what people do afterwards is their thing. Don't hang yourself up on the narrow-mindedness of others. You have paid the price and now live your life for Circe's sake." Nodding to himself, Blaise motioned the barman over. "Now, we both know that you think Granger's hot and if she should be receptive, you **will** ask her out. That's not a suggestion. It's an order." A small smile tugged at Draco's lips.

"You do remember that I'm your boss, don't you?" Snorting Blaise lifted his refilled glass.

"Yeah right. You can try to boss me around, but we'll see who's boss by the end of this night." Groaning Draco let his brow hit the bar. He knew what this meant. A great night of drinking, followed by the mother of all headaches the next morning. But hell, it would be worth it. With a slightly bigger smile, he raised his glass.

"Get prepared to be beaten then." Blaise waggled his eyebrows.

"You wish." Laughing they clinked glasses and started on their binge.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The campus of Salem University was much livelier, since the new semester was about to start in two weeks. Old friends met up in the quad and on the green, after getting rid of their parents and basically throwing their belongings into the quarters assigned to them. The decking out of the living space and personalisation of it would come later. The groups of students milling around wore all kinds of styles of clothing. Some had dreadlocks, smoking long pipes, which weren't all filled with only tobacco. Others wore top-of-the-line robes and dresses, while others wore their sports clothes. Most mixed robes with muggle clothes, since they were of mixed or muggle descent. All of them, no matter their form of dress, were well-fed and well-groomed. It was obvious to anyone that all of the students on campus had affluent parents. Attending Salem University wasn't exactly cheap.

All of the talking and movement stopped, when two large, old Cadillacs pulled up in the parking lot. Loud rap music blared out the windows. As the passengers of the cars got out, most who'd come closer in curiosity took a few steps back. Escobar's friends had offered to take him and since Keisha, James and Francesca didn't own a car, they'd hitched a ride. The men's jeans hung low on their hips, most wearing only an undershirt to cover their chests, while the women wore tight jeans and tank tops. Laughing and generally having a good time, they unloaded the four's bags the men's big, ostentatious jewellery glinting in the sun.

"Look at that, bro'! Damn! This place is unreal!" One of Escobar's friends said, looking around and pushing his big sunglasses up on his head. The others looked around as well, and most of them chuckled, when Tiny wiggled his eyebrows and the girl he did it at, almost shrieked and stumbled a few steps back.

"Sheesh. If all the chikas are as jumpy as that one, you will have a hell of a time to get some lovin' bro'." Tiny joked. The others joined in the laughter. Hugging each other and the men exchanging back slaps, they said their goodbyes.

"Yo guys!" They stopped their goodbyes and those who had got back into the cars got back out again. Jamal was jogging towards them and at first they didn't recognise him. His smile was big and bright, the worry gone from his eyes and his shoulders straight. There was a spring in his step and after they got over their shock, the entire group enthusiastically met him halfway. Francesca and Keisha jumped him, hugging him hard. Laughing, all of them went down. Getting back up, the guys started trading fake punches. Grinning, Tiny and James walked around Jamal, looking their friend up and down and tugging at his clothes.

"Look at you. All decked out and fancy." Tiny hooted, grinning. Self-conscious Jamal straightened the new, white shirt he was wearing.

"Yeah, I know. Mr Malfoy said I might need some new clothes. To fit in, he said. But I think he just said that to make me feel better. All my clothes were kind of threadbare." The others' heads jerked back a bit.

"Wow." James found his voice first. "You think he's got some more of those?" Grinning Jamal nodded eagerly.

"Yeah. Come on, guys. You're not going to believe the digs he set up for the members of the duelling program." Waving, he turned around and walked off. They followed interested and not caring about the reaction of the other students. Most of them tried to get out of their way unobtrusively, which had the Southies amused.

"I get now why Mr Malfoy wanted us. Look how jumpy they are." Tiny chuckled. Keisha grinned and winked at choice male students.

"Just makes them easier targets." She said and swung her hips a little more. Emilio and Jamal grinned and rolled their eyes. Keisha was known in their neighbourhood to be an incorrigible flirt. Despite many boasting of having had the night of their lives with her, those who truly knew her knew that she had yet to give it up to anybody. Francesca was just as flirtatious, but her current status of being single had more to do with her five older brothers than anything else. Being free of them here on campus, all new possibilities were open to her. Without them running interference all the time, she might have the chance of actually meeting someone. And like Keisha she noticed that there were some fine specimens to choose from.

All of the group looked around at the campus, noting the old brick buildings, statues and well-kept greens. Since it was a sunny day, most of the students were outside, enjoying the good weather. Curious they noted older people walking along the pathways with long black robes.

"Who're they?" Tiny asked, pointing. Jamal smiled.

"Those are the professors. They have to wear those silly cloaks apparently. Makes them easy to identify though. That building over there is the library. It's really cool. It's got thousands of books, but also a computer lab and a movie theatre, which the student union can use to put on shows."

"You got your own cinema?! Get out!" One of the group said envious. Jamal grinned.

"It may sound nice, but since I've been here, they only showed all kinds of artsy crap. Nothing truly worth watching and attendance wasn't anything to write home about. When I approached the guy in charge and asked him to show some more contemporary stuff that all might enjoy. He got all in my face, saying it would perpetuate the eroding of intellectual society. I forced myself to watch one of those movies. It was really weird. People talking in verse to each other; jumping in conversation; staring off for minutes without saying anything…and then weird camera angles. Close-ups of real jucky stuff. And that's what they call art? I'm happy then that I'm an uneducated hobo." At this the entire group snickered.

"That was the best he could come up with?" Emilio asked disbelieving. Jamal shrugged, a wide smile on his face.

"Well, practice makes perfect and when those artsy types insult you, they like to throw some quotes at you from people who actually knew something about art." This had the group snickering again.

Before long they reached a distinguished looking red brick building with elaborate embellishments around doors and windows done in marble. While Jamal took all this in stride, the others stopped and stared. Noticing that his friends weren't with him, Jamal turned around and took them in with a slanted smile. Yeah. His reaction had been similar, when Malfoy had first brought him here. The building had been in shambles, according to Malfoy. None of that was visible now. Both interior and exterior had been renovated with loving detail and the inside was filled with only the best of furniture and appliances available on the market. When Malfoy did something, he sure did it right.

"Come on. Stop staring. The inside's much better." Grinning they immediately jogged up to him and he opened the door wide.

"Welcome to Duelling Hall!" He introduced grandly. Striding into the foyer, he spread his arms wide. His steps reverberated on the gleaming parquet floor, which was inlaid with an intricate crest in lighter wood. The walls were painted a deep burgundy and the wood carvings reaching half-way up the wall gave the foyer and entrance a warm, welcoming feeling. A grand staircase led to the first floor. Left and right off the foyer great arches led into common rooms. One apparently for studying, or eating, the other for relaxation.

"Jamal?" At the female voice, the entire group turned around. Jamal with a big smile, the others with stunned expressions. He understood their reaction. He'd felt similar the first time he'd seen Professor Granger. Her elegant poise and grace had you stop and stare. No matter if you were male or female.

"Professor Granger, hi. Ahm…these are my friends from South Salem. Keisha, Francesca, Emilio and James will be staying. They made it on to the program as well." Her face lit up in a welcoming smile and she practically glided up to them.

"It's very nice to meet you all. How kind of you to help your friends get here. I am Professor Hermione Granger and I will be teaching Potions." There was no hint of fear in her, when she reached out to shake their hands. It had all the males flabbergasted and the girls a bit shy. They weren't used to receiving such a warm and sincere welcome, when arriving somewhere unannounced.

"I am sorry that I can't give you a tour, but I am sure that Jamal will be showing you around. Jamal? Professor Malfoy is in his office. He will have the room numbers for your friends. Dinner is tonight at seven." Jamal nodded.

"Yes, Professor Granger." Smiling she nodded once more to all of them and then left the Hall. Tiny's mouth hung open.

"Shit! That's your teacher?! Holy crap!" He belatedly tucked his shirt into his pants. Jamal chuckled and waved for them to follow him.

"Come on. Let's get you guys settled and then I can show you around." Eagerly Emilio and the other program members nodded, as well as the rest of the group. Taking the stairs, they turned to the left and entered a long hallway with doors left and right. At the very end a door stood open. Jamal headed right for it. The office inside was in warm, dark colours. A gigantic bookcase took in one entire wall. As one entered the office and turned to the right, one was confronted with a huge desk behind which Draco Malfoy sat. As the group entered, he lifted his head. With a smile he stood.

"Ah! My other students have arrived." He said. He shook each of their hands and turned back to his desk.

"All right, let's get you settled. I put you in rooms which are close to each other. Each of you will have a key to his room. The locks were bespelled by me and Professor Granger. That means the only way to open the door once locked, is your key. Feel free to add any more spells you deem necessary, but remember to take them off at the end of semester. Each semester you will move rooms. The more senior in years you become, the more benefits you will get. I'm afraid the first room you will move into is rather spartan, but then you won't spend much time there. Orientation material is on the desks. Jamal, would you please show your friends around? The room numbers are on the keys."

"Yes, sir. I will. I'll also give them a heads-up about dinner." Chuckling Malfoy shook his head and took his seat again.

"Would you believe that woman? As if we wouldn't be able to feed ourselves!" He grumbled. Jamal grinned and shooed his friends out the door. Before closing, he turned back.

"Don't forget, sir. Seven o'clock sharp." Growling Malfoy shot him a dark look. Laughing Jamal ducked his head, closed the door and turned to his friends. All of which were staring at him.

"What?" He asked, while raising his hands. Keisha smiled and hugged him tight.

"It's just been ages since we've heard you laugh, is all." Hugging her back he breathed deep. Of course it was Tiny, who broke the awkward moment.

"So what was that all about?" He pointed back at Malfoy's office door. Shaking his head with a smile and leaning an arm over Keisha's shoulders, Jamal pointed down the hallway.

"Better not here. Mr M has got awful good ears." Chuckling they made their way down the hall. He took them straight over the balcony overlooking the foyer, into the hallway across.

"This is the student wing. All student rooms are on this side of the Hall. Here are the keys, room numbers are on them. Stow your gear and come down to the common room. I'll scrounge something up in the kitchen, even though Professor Granger is probably going to yell at me for it." Chuckling he made his way back down the stairs. His friends looked after him.

"Barely recognise the dude, do you?" James commented. Keisha whacked him over the back of the head.

"Shut it. He deserves some happiness." Francesca nodded and the two women walked down the hall, looking for their rooms. Bit by bit each found their new accommodations. Emilio opened his door with Tiny right next to him. Shocked both stopped dead with wide eyes.

"He calls _this_ spartan?!" Emilio managed to get out. While the room was relatively small, there was more than enough room for one person. A sturdy bookcase took in the wall next to the door. Next to the wide window, a big, comfortable bed was flush with the wall. Across from the bed was a desk up against the other wall with a brand new laptop on it. Next to the desk was a small refrigerator. The carpet was a thick, ivory one. At the end of the bed was a wooden closet. All furniture was of the highest quality. Tiny moved first, touching everything as he went.

"This is unreal, man!" He said with a big smile. Shaking his head slowly Emilio entered himself.

"Yeah. Unreal." He whispered and felt a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. Mr Malfoy wouldn't simply deck this place out for them, invite them here, without expecting something in return. And he wanted to pay the man back. This was a major opportunity. Swallowing heavily, he sat his duffel on the bed and opened the closet. Gasping he took a step back. Half the closet was already filled with clothes. These also of the finest make. With a shaking hand, he touched one of the white shirts on a hanger and turned it. On the left breast a crest had been stitched.

"Wow!" Tiny again. Swallowing, Emilio sat on the bed, staring. "This is so cool, man! Shame that I'm not good enough at duelling yet. Otherwise I would be giving you hell on their duelling range." Grinning he turned, but when he saw the ashen face of his buddy, his grin fell.

"Emilio? Hey man! What's the matter?" Rubbing his face with shaking hands, Emilio shook his head.

"Tiny, I can't do this. I mean look at this place! I don't belong here. I don't know what Malfoy thought he saw in me, but I sure as hell don't. Look at this, man. It's…How am I supposed to not end up disappointing the guy?" Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Tiny stared at his shoes. When he raised his eyes there was an uncommon earnest in them.

"Stop right there, ok? I'm just saying this once and don't you dare repeat it to anyone. I'm shit scared about my future. Either I'll end up in a gang, a body bag, a cheap ass job or prison. You have a shot at something better. Don't you dare blow it, because you suddenly lose your _cojones_! Don't you dare man! I need someone to get me out of prison or to hire me to walk his dog or some such shit." Groaning and roughly pulling at his hair, Emilio sat up.

"All right. I'll do my best, but I won't make any promises. This could be over before it truly starts." Chuckling Tiny leaned to the closet.

"Yeah right. As if Malfoy would simply let you walk out of here, before kicking you in the butt once or twice to get you with the program." At this both chuckled. Clapping Emilio's shoulder, Tiny breathed deep. "Just…go with it, man. I'll be downstairs." Breathing deep, Emilio straightened his spine. Right. He had a chance at something great and he would be damned if he wasted it. Opening his bag, he took out the picture his mother had sneaked in there. It was of him and his parents. His father had died in a random spate of violence in his neighbourhood. Getting a degree here would give him a chance at a good job, which in turn would give him the opportunity to get his mother out of there. Maybe even his aunt and uncle. Who knew? Maybe, if they all stuck together, this could turn into an opportunity for the entire neighbourhood.

Downstairs Jamal was in the process of setting everything up for a nice afternoon with his friends. The common room had several large couches with big, low tables in front of them. He'd set the tables with snacks and chips he'd found in the kitchen, as well as sodas from the fridge. One by one, he was joined by the others from upstairs and eagerly he asked them for news about what had happened since he'd left. Before long, all of them sat around the common room, enjoying their time together.

"So, you gonna tell us now what all this with Granger and dinner is about?" James asked and took a sip from his soda. Chuckling Jamal shook his head.

"Well, when I first moved in here, it was only Mr Malfoy and me. We ordered in most of the time or went out. That all ended when Professor Granger showed up. She came in one evening to discuss some details with Mr Malfoy and saw us eating pizza. She asked whether this was a normal occurrence and Mr Malfoy told her that she didn't truly believe he would cook himself. I think they've known each other for some time. As of that night, she's taken control of the kitchen. Dinner is at regular hours and it's always prepared here. She comes in at six with fresh ingredients and cooks. We don't get anything however, unless we help. Either by setting the table or by helping with the cooking. I mostly help in the kitchen. Professor Granger once suggested to Mr Malfoy that he should switch with me. Boy did that kick off an argument between the two." He laughed, while the others shot each other wary glances.

"You mean they actually fought in front of you?"

"No, no. Don't worry. It's really weird. I mean their voices are all hard and sarcastic, but there's this undertone. I think it's just their form of entertainment." Shrugging he sat back. "I think they are simply used to talking like this to each other and don't know how to do it differently." Keisha mulled this over, while sucking on a lollipop.

"Maybe it's sexual tension. I mean, have you looked at them? She looks okay and he's…sexy." At the last, she moved her head and shoulders in a sinuous wave. The other girls giggled, while the guys only shook their heads or chuckled.

"Get in line, Keisha. He can't walk over campus without trailing twenty girls, all sighing over how dreamy he is." Jamal warned. She waved him off.

"Oh please! As if I wanted a piece of him. He's sexy, yeah but he's also way older than me. Besides, as if I would blow my chances by getting it on with one of the professors." Snorting she shook her head. Francesca nodded.

"Also, there's lots of fresh, naïve meat to be had among the student population." Francesca said and high-fived Keisha. Emilio rolled his eyes.

"Great! I can already hear your brothers calling and telling me to keep an eye on you." They gave him the evil eye.

"Don't you dare, Emilio!" Raising his hands while laughing, he leant back in his seat.

"Cool your jets, the both of you. As if I would interfere with either of you. Come on. What do you take me for? I'll nod at your brothers and make a serious face, but that's it. Oh and I'll beat the shit out of the guys that dump you." This had all once more dissolve in laughter. Francesca and Keisha leaned over and planted kisses on his cheeks each. The coming months would be hard, but if they stuck together, they might even make it.

 **Author's notes:** Thanks for all the reviews so far. :) It definitely keeps me going. I hope you will enjoy the coming chapters as well. All the best to you all and have great day's/night's ahead. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer still applies**

Chapter 6

Keisha and James helped Jamal clean up the common room and the kitchen, when their friends had left. They had jobs to return to, while for the first time in years, they had actual free time on their hands. Not unemployed-free-time, but actual _free time_. Chatting about everything and nothing, they were in the process of clearing the last stuff away, when Professor Granger entered the room.

"Good evening everyone." She said with a bright smile, hefting three heavy bags in her hands. Greens were poking out of one.

"Let me get that." James offered and took the bags from her.

"How kind of you. I brought enough for all of us. I can understand if some of you would rather eat elsewhere, but I hope I can at least interest you in possibly joining Jamal, Mr Malfoy and me." Shyly Keisha and James puttered around the kitchen, while Hermione acted as if she didn't notice. Hanging her expensive wool coat on a hanger, she donned an apron and started to pull out knives and pots.

"Jamal, would you please wash the vegetables? I'll start peeling the potatoes." Surprised Keisha and James noted that she actually did peel the potatoes by hand, not magic. And Jamal was following her lead by leaving his wand in his pocket. Uncomfortable the two newcomers stood in the kitchen and tried not to be in the way. That was until Professor Granger took over.

"James, Keisha, would you please chop the vegetables when Jamal is done with them?" She placed cutting boards and knives on the middle island and continued peeling. She didn't force them, but simply asked. Kicking out her hip and regaining her forward attitude, Keisha picked up one of the knives.

"Yeah, well…Just don't expect any fancy tomato roses or something. I've never done this without magic." Hermione gave her a playful smile.

"Don't worry. It can't be worse than what Malfoy manages when his Highness deems it necessary to 'make an effort to keep the peace'." Her heavy sarcasm had Jamal snort with suppressed laughter, while James and Keisha had no idea if it was okay to laugh, despite Jamal's assurances. They couldn't stop their lips from twitching however.

"Once more slandering my reputation, Granger?" Malfoy's cool tone of voice had James and Keisha flinch. Jamal remained calm and continued to wash the remaining lettuce. When he turned to help cut the vegetables, they saw that he was biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Oh Malfoy. That would be a waste of time. There is hardly any reputation to slander. When was the last time you actually published a paper?" Her voice had changed from the friendly tone she'd used with Jamal and the others to a harder, colder timbre.

"I spent my time with worthier pursuits. I didn't spend my time with my nose buried in a book like some people I could mention." Hermione cut the potato in front of her rather savagely into two halves.

"The pursuit of knowledge is a noble one. Nobler surely, than the profane amassing of more money than one could ever need. I find it to be a pastime of…small…men." At the last she sized him up from bottom to top, lingering on his hips. Malfoy's face flushed and his brows drew down. Growling he turned away and went into the dining room, which was accessible through the kitchen. The clanging of plates and cutlery were the only indications of his continued presence. With a gratified smile, she turned to the three youngsters.

"I am sorry you had to witness that." Jamal looked up with a grin.

"No worries, professor. I'm used to it and the others will get used to it." Smiling indulgently at him, she turned to the stove and started to prepare the meal.

The meal was a silent affair, since the newcomers didn't exactly know how to deal with the seeming hostility between the two adults. The only one trying to make easy conversation was Jamal. Since his attempts were continuously shot down, he gave up. Sighing he chased his food around his plate, not really eating anything. He'd pictured his friends coming here differently. He'd thought that they all would be talking and laughing and having a great time; talking about their new, bright futures. His deep sigh was overshadowed by the sound of the main door shutting with a loud clap.

"Hullo!" A deep voice called out in a sing-song. James and the others noted a distinct change coming over Professor Granger. She sat up with a bright smile. Something Professor Malfoy noticed as well and apparently didn't like too much. Keisha waggled her eyebrows with a smile. Leaning over to Francesca she whispered:

"Will you look at that? Professor M actually has the hots for her. I never would've guessed. Seems like their sarcastic arguing is his idea of foreplay." Francesca grinned and fanned herself surreptitiously.

"He can be sarcastic to me anytime." She drawled. Both girls started giggling, while the boys threw them disapproving glances. Jamal however grinned. This was more like it. Leave it to Professor Zabini to lift peoples' spirits. And speak of the devil, the tall Italian just now rounded the corner into the dining room. Francesca and Keisha widened their eyes at each other, then turned their full attention back to Zabini and fist-bumped each other. Emilio already saw trouble rising on his horizon. While his two friends might admire their male professors' good form and fitness he knew that they were too old for them. On the other hand, the rest of the campus was filled with men the two would view as eligible. He and the other guys would have to keep their eyes peeled so that they would be safe.

"Well isn't this cosy. Any chance there is enough for me to go around?" He turned the full force of his most charming smile on Hermione. Like the perfect hostess she rose immediately and readied a place for him.

"Of course there is, Blaise. You know that you are always welcome to join us for dinner." Zabini walked over to the place she'd set and hugged her tight. She hugged him back and Jamal noticed how Professor Malfoy switched his grip like a pro. No hesitation and no fumbling. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed that his professor was curiously adept at certain things. The spells he used to secure his office, the knife thing and also his reflexes and awareness of people around him. Jamal had been in the library once, reading. He'd seen Malfoy enter and walked up to him quietly, to ask a question. When he'd reached for Malfoy's shoulder, his professor had gripped his hand, almost breaking it and turned around like a flash. For a moment Jamal hadn't recognised the man across from him and had actually feared for his life. Especially because he'd felt the tip of Malfoy's wand digging into his stomach. The look in Malfoy's eyes was familiar to Jamal. He'd seen it in the eyes of those from his neighbourhood, who'd joined the muggle military in an effort to support their family and returned changed and broken. They were often twitchy and could even turn violent when startled. It seemed as if his mentor had made similar experiences.

Before the situation could deteriorate, Zabini let go of Professor Granger and took his seat. While he sat, he threw Malfoy a knowing grin and a wink. Jamal was surprised at this. Zabini was actually goading Malfoy? Judging from his own experience, Jamal thought this was a very bad idea. But then, Zabini seemed to know Malfoy even better than Professor Granger. Jamal only hoped that he also knew when to stop pushing.

"What are we having tonight then? I hope Draco had no hand in this?" He indicated the greens and steak on his plate. Smiling, Hermione shook her head.

"Don't worry, no. His majesty saw fit to 'supervise' though." Chuckling Zabini shook his head while throwing a look at his friend. He knew exactly what Draco was doing. Malfoy wasn't 'supervising' or even trying to demean Granger's efforts in making the new students feel welcome. He was trying to learn. Blaise had gotten this out of his friend after copious amounts of firewhiskey. What Granger didn't know was that Draco was practically constantly watching her. Especially when she worked in the kitchen, preparing meals.

"You should see her, mate. It's…beautiful. Calming. Domestic. She hums without realising it. I want that, Blaise." His friend had slurred, gripping his glass and staring off dreamily. Blaise, much more sober than his friend, had decided to force his friend to make a move. Women like Granger didn't go unnoticed for long. Already other members of the staff were throwing her looks and he'd overheard more than one of them making plans to ask her on a date. Malfoy needed to get a move on. Pushing those thoughts back, he cut into his steak and sampled it. Groaning he sat back, closing his eyes. Grinning Jamal nodded. Professor Granger was an excellent cook. The meat was wonderfully tender and seasoned just right.

"You've outdone yourself again, my dear." Blaise praised her. Shaking her head and blushing slightly, Hermione waved him off.

"Stop it, Zabini. I know you too well to fall for your tricks and pleasantries. Besides, I had great help." She indicated Jamal and his friends, smiling at them. Self-consciously Francesca studied her plate and chased some greens around it. Jamal grinned. This was definitely more like it. It actually felt like…family in some way. Something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Malfoy chose this moment to clear his throat and draw attention back to him. Something Jamal had noticed about him as well. His professor and benefactor didn't like it, if Professor Granger's attention was off him for too long. It was kind of funny.

"Yes, well. Just don't eat it all. Granger made it for the kids." Blaise chuckled, while catching the excellent sauce in a spongy, fresh, baguette slice.

"Knock it off, Draco. It's not as if you're not benefiting from this arrangement." Draco's scowl didn't affect him at all. He knew what had his friend in such a bad mood. Draco didn't mind sharing Hermione with the kids, since they didn't present a threat to him, but he on the other hand, could possibly catch Hermione's eye and her interest. Something Draco wanted all to himself, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, when Blaise actually got him to talk about it.

"Now don't fight you two. What kind of impression are you giving our new students?" She scolded both men. To Jamal's and the others' great amusement, both men lowered their heads and mumbled their excuses. By now his friends started to see what Jamal had been talking about. The dynamic between their professors was rather strange. As Hermione rose, Draco, Jamal and Blaise immediately got to their feet as well. Unsure, Emilio and the others started to get up too. Waving her hands, Hermione shook her head.

"Please everyone. Sit back down. I'm just going to fetch dessert and coffee." Keisha stood.

"Can I help?" She asked shyly. Smiling brightly, Hermione nodded.

"Thank you, dear. That would be lovely." Together they left for the kitchen and shortly after, Francesca followed them. There simply was too much testosterone at the table for her to stay. When all women had left the room, Jamal, Draco and Blaise retook their seats. Emilio raised an eyebrow at Jamal. Before Jamal could answer the silent question, Draco spoke.

"While you are here, I intend to give all of you lessons in how to properly behave yourselves. Correct and polite manners will open you many doors in life. When a lady rises from her seat, the polite thing is to rise as well. When she returns, it is polite to stand, until she has seated herself again. Also, please leave both of your hands on the table while eating. Sit up straight. Good posture is important." Blaise grinned around his glass of water. Draco was a stickler for correct and polite behaviour. It had been practically beaten into him during his childhood and he didn't abide bad manners if he could help it. Amused he watched how the new boys sat up straighter and put both of their hands on the table. Nodding with a smile, Draco leaned back.

"Very good. Remember that your wrist is the only part of your arms to touch the table during the meal. If you take a drink during a meal, set down both utensils and dab your mouth with your napkin."

"Oh Malfoy, leave them alone!" Granger's voice interrupted the lecture. Immediately Draco got to his feet again. As did all the other men in the room. Rolling her eyes, Hermione set the tray with cake and coffee on the table. Francesca and Keisha helped her pass around the dessert and coffee.

"There is nothing wrong with teaching proper manners to the young." Malfoy groused. Snorting Hermione started pouring the coffee.

"Then you are the last to give them lessons, Malfoy. Your manners left much to be desired back at school." Chuckling Blaise took a swig of his coffee. Grumbling Malfoy practically stabbed his cake, while Hermione sat down with a beatific smile. Shuffling the youngsters sat down as well.

"I was different then." Draco only mumbled without raising his eyes. Sniffing, while raising her coffee cup Hermione shrugged.

"I suppose." The cup hid her grin. When she saw how uncomfortable her new students were, she threw them a wink. It seemed to do the trick, since they all relaxed and dug into their dessert.

When they were finished, Hermione rose and stretched. Almost every male eye was immediately drawn to her chest. Keisha and Francesca didn't appreciate that very much, however they realised almost instantly, that their professor seemed completely unaware of that.

"That was very nice indeed. How about a game before we all turn in?" She suggested with a smile at James and the others. Shrugging they were unsure how to react. Jamal nodded though with a grin.

"Sounds like a great idea. But no more Monopoly." At this both Draco and Blaise sat up.

"What are you talking about? That's the greatest game ever invented!" Blaise protested. Draco only nodded enthusiastically. Hermione sighed deeply.

"Jamal is right. Playing Monopoly with you two is no fun. Especially after you accused me of cheating after I took both your money and then some." Draco raised his finger and opened his mouth to protest. Hermione raised her own finger. "Don't even start, Malfoy. I won fair and square. For the last time! I used no occlumency. And before either of you forget. We cooked which means that you clean up. Now shoo." She waved for Blaise and Draco to get themselves into the kitchen. Grinning at their sputtering objections, she led the youngsters into the living room. Sighing with a smile and looking dreamily at the ceiling, she bumped shoulders with Keisha.

"I just love ordering them around. All those manners they got beaten into them are good for something at least. They are almost incapable of denying a woman when you phrase your request just right." Shocked her new students stopped, while she continued on. Chuckling Jamal followed her. Stopping by his friends, he leaned closer to them.

"Make no mistake. Out of the three of them, she is by far the most dangerous." He whispered.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After a rather rowdy game of exploding snap, which the Americans had formerly been unexposed to, each went to their rooms for a good night's rest. At least that was the plan. Jamal was used to living on campus by now and had no problem falling asleep in the foreign environs. His friends weren't that lucky. Francesca and Keisha were soon bunking together, having an impromptu pyjama party. James was listening to his music on a wizard radio and started to leaf through some of the books on the shelves. Emilio wandered the house, until he ended up in front of Jamal's room. During the evening there had been no opportunity to truly speak alone. Either the others were around or one of the professors. Taking a deep breath, he finally knocked on the door. He'd stood there with his fist raised for some time already. Nothing happened, so he knocked again. And again. Finally a sleepy eyed Jamal opened the door. Blinking heavily and rubbing his face, Jamal looked at Emilio.

"What the hell, man?" He grumbled. Nervous Emilio rubbed the back of his neck.

"Listen. I know we haven't talked all that much in the past and we're not really friends but more like…acquaintances. But you…you've got more experience with this and…" Sighing Jamal let his head hang and stepped to the side, opening the door wider. Waving with his hand, he invited the other boy in.

"All right. Come on in." Mumbling his thanks, Emilio shuffled inside and sat on the chair in front of the desk. He noted that Jamal had already started to truly study, not just leaf through the books and read whatever caught his interest.

"So ahm…This seems to really be your thing." He said lamely in an effort to start the conversation. Yawning and rubbing his hand over his shortly shaved hair, Jamal slumped on his bed.

"Listen, Emilio. As much as I would love to do the whole beating around the bush thing, it's late and I have a meeting with a possible tutor tomorrow morning." Emilio sat up at this.

"See? That's exactly what I mean! None of us have the first clue what we are to do here, but you seem to have a handle on it." Jamal's face cleared considerably at this and also because of the latent fear in Emilio's voice.

"You're scared." He just said. Emilio didn't feel insulted. It had been a simple, quiet statement. A very true one.

"Hell yes! Aren't you?" Sighing and hanging his head, while kneading his neck, Jamal nodded.

"Sure I am. I mean, look at this place! And the people around here, they're not…let's just say they would only set foot in our neighbourhood if they got **really** lost." Both had to chuckle at this. Jamal saw that his words weren't exactly calming Emilio. Turning fully toward the other boy, he folded his hands.

"Listen. It's going to be much more difficult for us. All of us only graduated high school and a public one at that. Most of the kids around campus here went to private schools and had private tutors so that their marks would cut it. But what you have to realise is that the professors are there for us. While the rich kids can afford to visit their parents or call them, floo over etcetera whenever they like, we're pretty much cut off. All our relatives have at least two jobs, so we can't really burden them with our problems." Emilio snorted and shook his head.

"You really expect me to go with my problems to Professor M?" Jamal returned Emilio's disbelieving gaze with a deadly serious one of his own.

"If you want this to work, you'll have to. I know some stuff about studying, but that only extends to knowing that going to the library in order to find more information is a good idea. Everything else is as completely new to me as it is to you. I've got a good understanding with Professor Malfoy, but you can ask Professor Zabini or Granger if you like them better and feel more comfortable talking to them. What you need to realise is that they want us to succeed." Sighing Emilio let his head hang. Scratching his cheek he mulled it over.

"I don't really know what to make of it, but I'll feel all three of them out over the next week." Jamal nodded.

"That's a good idea. If you can't make up your mind, one of them will most likely approach you." Emilio raised an eyebrow at that.

"Why would they do that?" Chuckling Jamal leaned back and propped his upper body up on his forearms.

"Because they all have their specialties. They all know lots about duelling, but each of them has an area of expertise. Professor Zabini used to be a professional Quidditch player, so he's more of a physical type and knows all about improvising in the spur of the moment and the training of reflexes. Professor Malfoy is **the** best traditional duellist I've ever seen. He knows every trick in the book and spells I've never even heard of before. Professor Granger is frighteningly smart. You can ask her about anything and she'll give you a detailed answer. All the books in our rooms were specifically chosen by her. Academically she's the most accomplished of the three of them." Emilio nodded. Sighing he clapped his thighs and rose.

"Okay, thanks. Sorry that I interrupted your sleep." Jamal waved him off, as he showed Emilio out.

"Don't sweat it. We need to stick together, right?" Chuckling they bumped fists.

"Right. Night and thanks again." Jamal waved him off.

"Don't mention it. Night." The door closed and Emilio was once more on his own. Breathing deep, he went back to his own room.

Within the next week the Southies, as they became known around campus, familiarised themselves with their new environment. At times it was rough going. Most of the other students couldn't care less, but some were rather rude and told them in no uncertain terms that people like _them_ weren't supposed to be there and were unwelcome. They ignored it mostly, but when one of the thicker kids tripped Keisha on a footpath through the quad, the situation changed. Emilio and the others knew that if this first, slight bit of violence wasn't reacted upon, it would only escalate. While the bullies seemed used to giving punishment, they were crap at receiving some. While they were still giggling, Keisha picked herself up and took a wide swing at the guy who'd stuck his foot out. The snap of her slap rang out loudly and the formerly giggling group fell into disbelieving silence.

"Why did you do that?" The blonde sitting on the laps of one of the burly guys asked. Placing her arms akimbo, Keisha shot the blonde a dirty look.

"Listen up, Barbie. When someone hurts me, I hurt them back. So if any of you try any of this again on any of us, you better be prepared for the echo." Picking up her backpack, Keisha left in long strides, leaving the group of gaping morons behind her. Smiling she put an extra swagger in her step, satisfied with how that encounter had gone. That was until a loud boom right at her back had her diving to the ground. When she looked up she saw other students running screaming, while Professor Granger was moving towards her with the darkest expression she'd ever seen on any person. Keisha didn't scare easily due to the many criminals and gang members in her neighbourhood, but never had she seen something as scary as an infuriated Professor Hermione Granger. She only relaxed when she noticed that Granger wasn't headed for her, but the bullies who'd harassed her. Bullies who were desperately trying to scamper, but continuously ran into an invisible barrier. Frowning Keisha slowly got up.

"Oh stop it! Quit trying to run! At least try using your wands instead of your heads." Granger spit out in a cold tone. The cheerleader airhead bimbos were kneeling in a circle, clutching each other and crying and sobbing hysterically. Some of the men were as well. Most of them were still trying to break through the shield, but failed abysmally since none of them was smart enough to actually use his wand. Swishing her wand almost negligently, Hermione lowered the shield, while at the same time tying the bullies up or freezing them where they stood. One of them seemed to regain some of his equilibrium.

"Do you have any idea who I am?!" He screamed in indignation, however fear clear in the undertone. Hermione rolled her eyes and cocked her head.

"I don't particularly care who you are or who you think you are. Throwing a hex at someone's back is the height of cowardice. Just admit that you are too scared of her to fight her face to face." Tapping her wand against her thigh, she waited for him to answer her. Apparently he wasn't used to people simply brushing off his alleged importance. "So? Do you have anything to say for yourself?" She waited a moment more, but nothing came. Nodding Hermione waved her wand again and the jocks could once more move freely. Most of them scrambled, but the pack leader pointed a wavering finger at Hermione.

"This isn't over." He stammered. Shaking her head, Hermione gave him a slanted smile.

"Yes, it is. If you believe that I am at all intimidated by your family, think again. I don't care if you are a direct descendant of Merlin, I won't accept or tolerate this kind of behaviour. Be happy that I don't know your name or care for it, or I would be reporting you to the Dean and requesting your removal from campus. Now get your goons and get out of my sight, before I decide to take an actual interest in you." With a wave of her hand, she dismissed him and turned her attention to Keisha. Her face now only showed concern.

"Are you all right, Keisha?" Flabbergasted over the abrupt changes in her professor's expressions, Keisha carefully got back on her feet.

"Yeah…I'm…I'm fine. What was that?" Shaking her head, Keisha tried to get rid of the ringing. Sighing Hermione shook her head.

"Bigotry. As it seems, it is, beside stupidity, the only universal constant." Grinning and picking up her backpack, Keisha nodded.

"Well, Professor. That's nothing new. I have to go. Thanks, Professor. I'm meeting some possible tutors with Francesca. The boys are so helpless around here." A big grin spread on both their faces. Hermione was happy that the girls were acclimatising so well. This could have ended much differently, Hermione knew. But then, Keisha was a tough girl. The bullying from some wannabes wouldn't stop her. She'd most likely dealt with much tougher and more dangerous people in her neighbourhood. Breathing deep and sheathing her wand, she turned towards the administrative building. It would be best if she reported this incident to the Dean, before the jocks did. They would, no doubt, colour her as a wand wielding maniacal woman out for their blood. Attacking them for no reason.

McPherson was having a lovely discussion about American wizarding history and the influence of traditional American Indian rituals had on the modern magical practices within the United States, when his door was thrown open by a student. His secretary was trying to stop the young man, but Ophelia was getting a bit old and the young man seemed to have more brawns than brains. Everyone on campus knew not to mess with Ophelia and that included the Dean. She was the secret empress of Salem University. She knew and remembered all students who had come through the university in the last fifty years and her recollection of their shortcomings was perfect. Oh yes. You messed with Ophelia at your own peril.

"You can't go in there. Dean McPherson is in a meeting." She once more insisted. The young man actually pushed her and McPherson quickly got up to steady her.

"Get off me you old bat! Dean, I demand to speak to you at once!" Imperiously the young man stood up straighter. Ignoring him for the moment, McPherson turned to Ophelia.

"Are you all right?" Huffing she nodded and patted her hairdo back into place.

"If you will excuse me, Dean?" Her hands were shaking slightly, but McPherson knew it wasn't because of her being upset, but because she was angry. Whoever this student was, he was in for the worst time of his life. Ophelia had many tricks up her sleeve. With a deliberate click and a huff, she closed the door behind her. Dean McPherson centred his gaze on the tall, muscular teen opposite him. He believed his name was Kendrick. The Kendrick's were a rich and influential family from New York. According to the latest reports he wasn't the brightest student, but he kept himself afloat just so. Of course it helped that he was an outstanding Quidditch player.

"Can I help you, Mr Kendrick?" Dean McPherson asked curiously. Ruffling his already artfully ruffled hair, Kendrick paced up and down. Stopping with spread legs in front of the Dean, Kendrick pointed his finger directly into the older man's face.

"I want her fired! Taken in for assault!" He said with a slight tremor in his voice. Confused the Dean wrinkled his brow.

"Who?"

"That new Professor. The hot one!" Kendrick said while gesticulating wildly. Frowning deeper now in anger, Dean McPherson's face darkened.

"Now listen here! I will not have any of my faculty referred to in that manner." He warned. Before Kendrick could say another word, a slight clearing of the throat had both men turn. Hermione rose and straightened her pencil skirt.

"I will leave you to your duties, Dean. Thank you for the tea and the lovely conversation." With a smile she shook his hand. While the Dean was bidding her goodbye and escorting her to the door, she threw a look at Kendrick raising an eyebrow. The boy swallowed with difficulty.

Closing the door with more force than necessary, McPherson turned to Kendrick. He knew now what this was about. Professor Granger, an absolutely delightful woman and brilliant conversationalist as he'd found out to his great pleasure, had already informed him about her actions earlier on. It seemed that one of the jocks was now trying to paint her as the guilty party. It was time to put another part of his plan to bring Salem University back on top in motion. All athletes would from the beginning of this semester need to present a grade average of at least a B- or they would be banned from playing on their respective teams and thus forfeiting possible extra points. His dark demeanour intensified when he turned back to Kendrick. This little upstart was in for a big surprise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Thank you for all the interest shown and the wonderful reviews. :) Due to the Easter holiday and having to work this weekend I won't be able to upload as much. I will do my best to get you more chapters this weekend, but I am not sure whether I can manage it between my work and family time.**

 **Again, thanks so much for all the support! :)**

Chapter 8

Jamal and Francesca headed back to Duelling Hall after having met with possible tutors. They were overwhelmed at the possibilities the curriculum offered. Some of the stuff they'd never even heard about. Keisha joined them when they passed the library.

"So what have you two been up to?" Keisha asked with a bright smile and swished her hips a bit more, when they passed a group of boys. Jamal shook his head with a smile, while Francesca blew the gob-smacked group a kiss. The Southie girls had quickly noticed that the majority of the boys on campus had no actual experience, despite their boasts. While Francesca didn't have any carnal experience thanks to her extremely protective brothers, she could pretend with the best of them and Keisha had shared just about everything she knew with her best friend.

"Nothing special. Scouting for tutors. You?" Jamal answered, since Francesca was still ogling the male students.

"Some of the same. I nipped into the library to familiarise myself with it. Guess we'll spend a lot of time there." Keisha said with a lopsided grin. A smidge of sadness was in there. Jamal understood why. All of them had a rather low-shelf, public education, which meant that they were hopelessly intellectually behind all other students. Professor Granger had already drawn them timetables to prepare them and to help them close the information gap.

When they entered the Hall a surprise was waiting for them. A large group of students was standing in the middle of the Hall, taking it in with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Frowning Jamal looked into the common room. James and Emilio were there, watching the newcomers warily. Edging around the group, Francesca, Keisha and Jamal joined them on the sofas.

"Do you guys know what this is about?" Keisha asked in a low voice. Emilio shook his head. James as well.

"Nope. They just started to turn up about twenty minutes ago. Didn't try to talk to us or anything." James said in his deep voice. He was the quiet, brooding type and rarely said anything. Francesca was happy that he was talking now. When he was uncomfortable he didn't talk at all. Him talking now meant he was adjusting to campus life already.

"May I have your attention, please!" The exclamation came from the balcony above the entrance hall. The Southies got up to see what was going on. Professor Malfoy and Zabini stood at the railing.

"Welcome all of you to Duelling Hall. You all have applied to become members of the duelling team. Today we will hold trials to determine which of you will make the cut. Professor Zabini and I will be testing you today.

"If you should make it on the team, you will move from your current lodgings to Duelling Hall here. You will be required to attend fitness classes with Professor Zabini, potions and charms with Professor Granger, who will be joining us later. I will instruct you in the art of duelling.

"Now if you feel that this will not fit into your current classes, please leave now. I need each and every one of you to be one hundred percent committed to this. It will be exhausting and at times you will feel as if it is too much, but the rewards will be well worth it." At this he threw the Southies an imperceptible look.

"All of you please change into exercise clothes and meet Professor Zabini and me in the duelling gymnasium. The first tests will be done there. Thank you." Talking quietly amongst each other and a little baffled the group of newcomers left in small groups. Jamal nudged Emilio, who was watching them leave, when Professor Malfoy descended the stairs.

"I would like for you to be there as well. I am versed in freestyle duelling, but I fear that my style is considered rather…conservative." At this the Southies had to chuckle. When Professor Zabini had shown them around on campus, they'd seen Professor Malfoy training. While his moves had been fluent and seamless, his style lacked a certain possass. Freestyle duelling was heavily influenced by street dancing in the United States, while the continental method was more in tune with athletics.

Turning to the stairs, the Southies made their way to their rooms and changed into exercise fatigues. They had brought some of their own fatigues, but they all decided to wear the ones Professor Malfoy had provided for them. The t-shirts and track pants all bore the symbol of the duelling programme. That way they would right from the start make it clear to the other students that they were already part of the programme and they would also present a united front. Another added bonus was that the fatigues were well-made and comfortable. As such the difference in social status wouldn't be that noticeable.

xXx

Francis was absolutely pumped. Finally here was his chance to fairly get on the team and to do what he had been dreaming about most of his life. Ever since his father had taken him to his first duelling tournament, he had wanted to be able to duel like the men he had seen then. The movements filled with grace. Each step filled with purpose. He had always been a little too small or a little too uncoordinated. That hadn't stopped him from training at home or following the duelling circuit like a fanatic. Even though Stuart had decided to show up, Francis had decided not to let this get him down. Professor Malfoy didn't seem to be the kind of guy to take any crap. Which meant that Stuart's chances were zero to nil. Francis wasn't sure though why Professor Malfoy had ordered them to change into fatigues. Giles had never asked them to do that.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the arrival of a group of students, all in the same fatigues, which all bore the same crest he'd noticed on the floor of Duelling Hall. He didn't know that the programme already had members. Taking a closer look, Francis recognised the newcomers as the infamous Southies. From where he was standing, they didn't look all that dangerous or criminal. He noted though that they didn't approach the rest of them and two of the men wore forbidding expressions on their faces. He guessed that this was natural. None on campus had yet to his knowledge made any effort to befriend any of them. As such, he could understand that they would stick together. He would too, if it was him. Before he could make any more observations, Professors Malfoy and Zabini entered the duelling gym.

When Francis had seen either of them the first time, he had been a little bit awed. Most of his professors were about fifty or older. These two men however were in their prime. He estimated them to be around thirty. While Professor Zabini wore shorts and a t-shirt, Professor Malfoy wore the most elegant duelling garb Francis had ever seen. It looked like something from another era. Black pants and boots, a tight, white, cross-stitched chest-piece with a high collar and an expensive white shirt underneath. Grinning Francis tugged on his shirt and was already imagining himself in similar clothes.

"Welcome students." Professor Malfoy said smiling. The female students sighed a little. "Today we are holding trials to see which one of you will make it on the duelling team. First, Professor Zabini will test your physical fitness. Next I will test your duelling skills. Afterwards each of you will be writing a test under the supervision of Professor Granger, who will join us soon. Professor Zabini?" Malfoy turned to his colleague, as did the eager, albeit a little confused eyes of the students.

Blaise clapped his hands and grinned brightly at the assembled. With another motion of his hands, ropes descended from the ceiling, bars appeared on the wall and a group of balls started to hop.

"All right! Each of you will have to complete five rounds of the following within fifteen minutes. Five laps around the gym. No jogging, but sprints! Then up the rope and touch the ceiling. Afterwards, twenty sit-ups, then twenty pull-ups. On your way to run the circuit of the gym again, you need to pass the balls over there and not get hit. I will demonstrate." He stretched for a moment and then took off running. His stride was long and smooth and within no time, he had completed the run. Jumping up, he caught hold of the rope and shimmied his way up. He made it look absolutely effortless, but all among the group knew from their school days it was much harder than that. The sit-ups and pull-ups were done quickly as well and when he made his way back to the starting point of the run, they were all surprised by how aggressive the balls went after him. Expertly he dodged each one, stopping at the starting line, not even out of breath.

"If you cannot reach this point at least once, you will not make the cut. If you wish, you can leave now." He waited for a moment, but no one left. Francis wasn't surprised at this. All who were here now, were absolutely serious about joining the duelling team. He was a little concerned, since he wasn't sure he would be able to climb the ropes. Inconspicuously he glanced around and saw some of the others shuffle as well. He noticed also, that some were drawing their wands. Zabini seemed to notice this as well.

"No wands! There will be no magic for this test for any of you. In duelling great demands will be put on your body. While your magical power is not linked to your physical one, the amount of concentration it takes to duel well and execute spells properly under high pressure demands that you are in a good physical condition. That is why you will never see an overweight duelling champion. They simply burn through their calories so fast, they have no chance to get any extra pounds on their ribs." Picking up a clip board and a stop watch, he again stepped up to the start line.

"Everyone get over here. Those of you who brought their wand, hand it over." Shuffling and nervous, the group of students joined him. Francis noted that the Southies were with them as well. He wondered why. Apparently they had already made it on the team. Why would they take the test as well? He was quickly pulled from his musings, when Stuart pushed him roughly out of his way.

"Run on home, Francine. This is the big boys' club." He sneered. Francis' nostrils flared, but he didn't respond. That is just what Stuart wanted. Francis would bet he wouldn't be allowed to participate in the tests, if he started a fight. Looking straight ahead, he breathed deep and shook out his arms. The next few minutes would determine his future.

"Ready? Go!" The minute Zabini gave the go, all students started off. The jocks, who had formerly been on the team, soon outran the other hopefuls, but couldn't keep their lead for long. Professor Malfoy, Zabini and Granger had made it clear in their address to the student body that _all_ could apply. Not only men. And Francis had been surprised how many women wanted to be on the team. Women he normally wouldn't have thought interested in the sport. Some of those women were now outpacing the jocks and Francis cheered them on. Breathing heavily he made it through his fifth round and closed in on a rope. His personal nemesis in high school. There he had never made it to the top, but here he had to. Trying to remember everything his coach had ever told him about using his hands and feet in tandem, he took a running start and tried to gain a few feet by jumping. Slinging the rope around his leg, he tried to place his foot, so that he would be able to rest his arms. It worked; kind of. It wasn't perfect, but he actually made it. Smiling and with sweat dripping off his brow, he got back down. Sitting down he next got to the sit-ups.

"Where are the girls? They were supposed to give us support." One of Stuart's underlings grumbled next to him. At this Francis had to look around and wonder himself. Where were the cheerleaders that were normally glued to the former duelling team? In fact, where were the other students? Normally events like these, try-outs, were well frequented.

"I heard Malfoy saying, that he warded the doors. Only those trying out are allowed in. No one else." Someone gasped in answer. Francis didn't really care, though he was thankful that there wasn't the added pressure of an audience. All he needed to concentrate on now was to perform well. The pull-ups were pure torture. He'd never had all that much upper body strength. Running was more his forte. As he struggled with the pull-ups, he saw that a good portion were already on their next run. At this time it hit him that he had to do all this four more times. Puffing and with a red head he struggled to pull his chin over the bar again. Gritting his teeth he decided that he would at least complete the round twice. Getting past the balls, when he as one of the last of the first round could finally go on, was easy. He had all his life dodged bullies and their blows, so it wasn't much of a challenge. Sweat poured down him freely and his run was slower than the last. He wanted to conserve his strength. Shaking his arms, he attempted to get the burning to stop.

After another gruelling twenty pull-ups, he actually made it into round three, but he already knew he wouldn't be able to complete it. Every breath he took was laboured and he had a slightly metallic taste in his mouth. Some had already dropped out and had sat down on the bleachers. Francis would attempt to complete this run, but as he'd feared, the pull-ups defeated him. After his fourth attempt to get his first pull-up done, he let himself drop and stumbled over to the bleachers. Panting and gasping, he hung his head, trying to catch his breath and not to throw up. Lifting his head, he spied only twelve people left on the track. All five Southies among them. They were sweating a lot too, but they seemed in excellent shape. The men's pull-ups seemed almost as effortless as when Professor Zabini had done them, while the two women seemed to slide up the ropes instead of climbing them. To Francis' disappointment, Stuart was still in the running as well. Oh well. Professor Malfoy had mentioned something about a written test. Stuart's chances of getting on the team would end there. After a while he got his breath back and leaned onto his elbows, which were resting on the seats behind him. He stretched his legs in an effort to avoid cramps. A bright smile came on his face, when Stuart was hit right in the face by one of the bouncing balls on his final run. Even better, all the Southies and the women still left in the running finished before him.

Smiling Professor Zabini stopped his watch, as the last student collapsed gasping at the finish line. He made some final notes, while the last contenders made their way to the bleachers.

"Well done, all of you. All of you made the cut. In the next months I will get you into shape and all of you will be able to finish this course by the end of the semester. And I will test you on it, I promise." Zabini now stood in front of them, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. While the more timid among them wore proud smiles, the women once more sighed about their dreamy professor.

"You have half an hour to get yourself cleaned up and ready. If you are not here at two o'clock sharp for Professor Malfoy's test, you are off the team. Now go hit the showers." He clapped his hands once and the sharp snap of his hands had the students get back on their feet. As Francis exited, he looked back and saw how the two Professors approached the Southies with smiles on their faces, shaking their hands and encouraging them. Francis wanted to be part of that more than ever. As he faced forward, he was surprised by what he saw outside. A large group of students had gathered there, apparently trying to get inside the hall to observe the try-out. The jocks were immediately engulfed in a squealing mass of cheerleaders. Others were greeted by their friends or cliques. Francis was surprised to see Clarence waiving frantically and trying to make his way over to him.

"Clarence? What are you doing here?" His friend slapped him on the shoulder, gripping it with a proud grin.

"Are you kidding? My best friend finally gets to have a real shot at his dream! Where the Hell else should I be?!" Grinning Francis suddenly felt much better about his chances.

"Thanks man. That really means a lot." Together they made their way over to the dorms. Clarence waived it off.

"Just remember me when you're all rich and famous. By the way, the faculty sent a letter over to our digs. You haven't signed up for courses yet." Francis nodded and instead of taking the stairs like normally, he actually managed to convince Clarence to take the elevator in their dorms. It smelled funny because the pipe-heads often used it as their hide-out to smoke the more 'flavour-full' herbs.

"Yeah. I will need to take some special courses if I get in the duelling programme and I didn't want it to conflict with my other classes. I'll know by the end of the day if I made it and I'll hand in my course list tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't miss the deadline." He grinned as they got off on their floor.

"OK. Just wanted to mention it. Have you told your folks yet?" Francis snorted at that.

"Merlin, no! They would tell me I was crazy to even consider it. My dad's a huge fan of competitive duelling, but ever since I crapped out at the duelling camp he sent me to over the summer when I was twelve, he'd more or less buried his hopes of raising the next duelling world champion." Clarence pulled his head back in confusion and missed a step.

"You think this program will turn you into a champion dueller? Not to rain on your parade, but I think it takes a little more than a few years of lessons at college." He didn't want to point out to his friend that natural talent was also a big factor. You could work as hard as you wanted, but if you did not have a natural talent and affinity for spells and wandwork, you would never make it to the big leagues.

"Naw, but maybe winning a few contests with a team would be enough for me. Besides, it looks great on your CV." Relieved Clarence laughed along with Francis. He didn't want to see his friend hurt, so he was glad that Francis didn't have too many expectations or hopes attached to this new program.

"So what's next then?" He sat on his bed and threw Francis a bottle of water.

"I definitely gotta shower and be back in the duelling gym at two. This first round was just a fitness test. Next is a duelling test against Professor Malfoy. You should have seen him, man. The duelling outfit he wears is a far cry from the robes the team wears. I wonder if his team will be wearing the same." Clarence chuckled at Francis' enthusiasm.

"I guess the gym will be locked again." Clarence mused. Francis shrugged.

"I have no idea. It would definitely take the pressure off." He mumbled, while rubbing his neck self-consciously. Duelling with the others on the team had never been a problem for him, but trying to duel in front of the cheerleaders had always been a special kind of torture. Every time the others had landed a hit or jinxed him off the platform, the girls had thrown vicious barbs and insults his way, making fun of him. It always took an extra bit of courage for him to stop up on the platform. He looked up, when Clarence's hand clasped his shoulder.

"You'll do great. I know it. Come find me, when you are through, ok? Then we can celebrate." Both smiled and Francis snatched up his towel to get showered.

xXx

The prospective new duellists entered the gym in small groups. The climbing rope had coiled itself upwards to the ceiling and the pull-up bars had vanished. Instead, three duelling carpets now dominated the floor of the gym. At exactly two o'clock, the doors to the gym shut themselves and the locks engaged. Some of the students flinched. Francis had to agree. It was a little ominous. He looked to the Southies and none of them seemed concerned. He took his cue from them and relaxed. They didn't have to wait long.

"Welcome back." They turned toward the duelling carpet in the middle. Professor Malfoy was standing in the middle, his hands behind his back. Again Francis was impressed with the duelling uniform Professor Malfoy wore.

"In order to assess you, you will all first duel me. Professor Zabini will take notes. Afterwards, we will put you in teams of two. Those will then duel in freestyle against each other." At this, some of the students smiled, others seemed confused. Salem University had before now never competed in the freestyle competition. Apparently they were about to start as of this season.

"Please make yourselves comfortable and when I call your name, ascend the platform. There will be no derogatory comments or jeers. If any of you cannot keep a civil tongue in his or her head then you are automatically disqualified." Malfoy's thousand-yard stare made it clear to all he wasn't kidding. Francis immediately smiled widely. Finally here was his chance to show his stuff without being completely worried about his performance and failing dismally. As a group they headed to the bleachers and sat down. There was some shuffling and pushing involved, due to friends wanting to sit next to each other and Stuart and his cronies being jerks as always. Francis decided it was a good time to get a bit closer to the Southies, so he made his way over to them. Unlike the rest of his peers. Around the five Southies there was more than enough room for him to sit. Leaning over, he smiled shyly at one of the girls.

"Hi. I'm Francis Griffton. Do you mind if I sit here?" Immediately he had all their eyes on him, which made him a little nervous. The Latina girl smiled though and patted the seat next to her.

"Sure, Francis. I'm Francesca. These are my friends: Keisha, Emilio, James and Jamal." Francis waved at them all with a smile. Emilio and James only grunted in greeting, while Keisha winked at him and Jamal waved back. Keisha's flirting had him blushing a little, which had both women high-fiving each other. Like fish in a barrel the boys…sometimes it was simply too easy.

"It's nice to meet you all. I mean, I've seen you around campus, but wasn't sure if you would like to talk to me." Francis laced his hands and forced himself to shut up, since he was obviously ranting. His blush only intensified. Frowning the Southies looked from one to the next. Finally Francesca leaned close to him.

"Why wouldn't we talk to you?" She asked softly. He shrugged and fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt.

"Well…I'm not really all that interesting. I'm not in one of the societies and my former role in the old duelling team was…minimal. Basically I'm kind of…boring." He shrugged again, his face hot.

"Huh. In that case, all of us are boring too, if you go by those standards." Jamal said and winked, when Francis looked up. This simple act made Francis breathe easier.

"Oh come on! You're already part of the duelling program and I'm sure your lives were much more interesting than mine. All I ever did that was dangerous or daring was to steal cookies from my grandmother's special jar." His smile slowly slipped from Francis' face as he saw the mood of the others around him go decidedly dark.

"Adventure isn't what it is made out to be?" Keisha had snuggled up to James, whose face was as hard as stone. Each of them remembered a few episodes from their neighbourhood. Some of them had barely gotten away from those with their lives. Many of them had either curse- or bullet scars to prove it. Francis swallowed hard and felt sorry that he'd wakened bad memories for the Southies by his naïve comment.

Professor Malfoy's voice roused them from their bubble of silence.

"Francis Griffton!" Swallowing nervously, Francis stood and made his way over to the duelling carpet. He'd missed the others' performance, due to him introducing himself and because of the deep silence he'd caused. Now it was his turn. Gripping his wand tighter, he made his way to the middle, to greet the Professor as was the custom. Up close Professor Malfoy was even more impressive. The way he held himself made a big impression on Francis. Professor Malfoy seemed the essence of an old-school duellist. Back straight, one foot slightly in front of the other, one arm on his back and his wand held loosely in the other at his side. With a flourish his, hopefully, new Professor bowed and brought his wand up.

"Begin when you are ready." He simply said. Francis had studied on duelling in his spare time, since the duelling the former team had done had been a joke and also because he was a big fan of the sport. And all the books he'd ever read and all the interviews of famous duellists he'd ever seen told him one thing was key before starting a duel. Analyse your opponent. Carefully he checked on the Professor's stance, his hands and his eyes. What he saw made him nervous. He couldn't tell anything about his opponent. Professor Malfoy had an amazing poker face and his body didn't betray him either. Breathing deep, Francis raised his wand. Here goes nothing. Swiftly turning his wrist, he planned to disarm, immediately afterwards he took a small step back and raised a protective shield. It was a faint blue shimmer that lasted for maybe the blink of an eye, before it was dispelled and his arms suddenly snapped to his torso, completely immobilising him. Professor Malfoy stepped closer to him, not a hair out of place.

"Solid wand work. Could be quicker. Good tactical thinking. Well done. Blaise?" He turned to Professor Zabini, who nodded and jotted something down. Francis noticed that he could move again and took the hand Malfoy stretched out to him. "Well done. Please retake your seat." Smiling brightly and feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Francis walked back to his seat. Keisha greeted him with a smile and a thumbs-up. Letting his breath out slowly he returned the smile.

The testing went on. Some got off a few more spells than others. Francis was especially happy to see the former duelling team members getting trashed. Professor Malfoy was merciless in his testing. He granted you first attack but everything after that was a testing of your abilities. If someone showed more promise, Professor Malfoy didn't pull any punches. To Francis' surprise, none of the Southies had to get up and get tested. He turned to Keisha.

"Don't you have to get tested?" He asked.

"Nope. Professor M came to our neighbourhood and duelled just about anybody there. He chose us to come." James nodded with a small smile.

"We thought it was a joke when he challenged us on our own turf. Some kind of trick by the police." Francis raised an eyebrow at that and looked to Keisha. With a smile she winked at him.

"We're so misunderstood." She stage-whispered. The other Southies chuckled, while Francis felt a little unsettled. It disturbed him a little that their first assumption was deceit when they were approached by someone. But he guessed it was only natural. As a part of his muggle studies course, he'd read their newspapers and South Salem was in there almost daily and almost never with any good news. Even the wizarding newspapers basically gave one impression. South Salem was a bad place to be.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: I made better time than I thought I would. :) Gives me time to upload another one for you guys. Happy Easter!**

Chapter 9

As the last contestant left the duelling carpet, Professor Malfoy jumped off and strode up to the bleachers.

"Well done. Now to the second part, freestyle duelling. I know that the university hasn't competed in the freestyle competition before, but that will change. Many of you show promise and I believe that freestyle will fit many of you. James! Emilio! Please get down here." He waved to the Southies in question, who immediately got to their feet. The two men took off their sports jackets and left them with the rest of their group. In track pants and muscle shirts they stood in front of their peers next to Professor Malfoy.

"These two young men have already made it onto the team. They will take the tests just like you, but in order for Professor Zabini and me to get an idea how good your freestyle skills are, they will be your opponents. Freestyle is always two on two or three on three. That means I will team you up with someone else and you will have to work together. Teamwork ladies and gentlemen! Freestyle is all about teamwork. If you think that you can take on two opponents on your own be prepared for a surprise. Showing off will get you and your team mate dismissed. My duelling team is a team. Which means you will learn to work together. If you feel you're incapable, leave now." He waited for a few seconds.

"Good. Now Aster and Lorelei, front and centre." A burly man, part of the former duelling team, and a fine-boned woman rose and stepped up to Professor Malfoy.

"Emilio and James will be the blue team. You are red." With a swish of his wand their jerseys and tank tops changed colour. "Go to opposite ends of the arena." The floor rumbled and shifted and within minutes, it had transformed into a freestyle area. Complete with hides and ramps. The Southies took position on the other end, while Aster and Lorelei stood with their backs to the bleachers. Immediately Stuart and his band of bullies pushed their way to the front, so that they could cheer their ex-team mate on. While all of them had been kicked off the team, they still saw themselves as the true Salem University duelling team. Lorelei leant over to Aster.

"How do you want to approach this? Should we concentrate on one and if so, which one should we take on first?" She asked politely, while it was obvious from her facial expression that she wasn't thrilled about having to duel with Aster. His reputation on campus was not good. He was a bully and unapologetically misogynistic.

"Just stay out of my way and let a man do this. This is no place for a woman anyway." He grumbled at her and fixed his gaze on Emilio. That punk had had the audacity to talk to Eliana, head of the Demeter sorority. Filth like him were not fit to talk to someone as pure as her. He saw it as his duty to teach him and the silent freak a lesson.

"WE are supposed to act as a team!" Lorelei hissed. "I won't be kicked off the team already, just because you can't pull your head out of your ass!" Aster threw her a dark glare.

"I don't give a fuck what you think. I've been doing this a lot longer than you. If you absolutely want to help, then watch my back and try to take notes." He sneered. Huffing Lorelei loosened her arms and shook her head.

"Right. Taking notes." Snorting she centred her attention on the two Southies on the other side of the arena. "The fact that I am third in Charms class means you should be taking notes from me, pea brain." Before Aster could retort, Professor Ponce, as he liked to call Malfoy, raised his wand.

"Duel!" He called out and Aster shot off, completely fixated on his goal. Teaching that worthless piece of shit Latino a lesson about talking to his betters. Due to his fixation on Emilio, he missed James moving in concert with his partner toward Aster's side. A flash of blue on Aster's left pulled him from his tunnel vision. Lorelei rolled past him and into cover.

"You can thank me later." She murmured, not taking her eyes off their opponents. Aster shook with rage. Both at being shown up by Lorelei and because of having been rescued by her in front of his team mates. He'd never hear the end of this from the others. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he vaulted over the cover he'd taken on instinct after Lorelei had blocked James' spell. His gaze fixed on the Latino freak, he began shooting spells and advancing. Behind him Lorelei valiantly tried to occupy James, while Emilio did not even make an effort at blocking his spells, but simply evaded them by dodging and some serious moves even Aster had to admire to some degree.

"Stand and fight you coward!" He yelled at the hoodlum, who just threw him a smirk from his crouched position and twisted his wrist, firing a spell which missed Aster completely. "Can't even aim properly." Aster sneered derisively. Emilio's smirk stayed where it was.

"Look behind you." He simply said. Snorting Aster shook his head.

"You think I'm gonna fall for the oldest trick in the book?" He sneered and then felt a wand at his neck. Turning his head slightly, Aster looked behind him. The silent freak stood right behind him, while Lorelei was frozen mid stance behind them. The silent freak wasn't even looking at him, but at Professor Ponce. Malfoy nodded, while taking notes.

"Duel is finished. Winners are James and Emilio. Nice tactics, boys." James immediately lowered his wand, a twitch around the corners of his mouth the only indication of a smile, while Emilio smiled brightly, twirling his wand through his fingers. Aster was trembling with fury. There was no way those two beggars had beat him! They had to have cheated. That was it! Malfoy had gotten them here on a scholarship type of deal and if they weren't cutting it, he would look like an idiot. Of course the way he dressed, he already did, but the Southies failing would show incompetence to the board. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as Malfoy congratulated them on their win and patted Lorelei on the shoulder, after unfreezing her.

"Very well done." He told her and Aster rolled his eyes. If the bitch had done her job properly, they would have won. As he'd pointed out to her, duelling arenas were no places for women. Lorelei on the other hand was surprised at the positive reaction from Malfoy.

"But we didn't win, sir." Nodding Malfoy indicated for her to retake her seat on the bleachers.

"No, you didn't, but through no fault of your own. You tried working with your partner, but he was...unreceptive." They shared a sarcastic smile at that and Lorelei moved over to her friends, who had come to try out themselves. Eagerly they leaned over to her.

"What did he say?" Sabrina asked tentatively. Having lost, Sabrina and the others feared that this was it for Lorelei. Smiling Lorelei nudged her friend with her shoulder.

"He said I did well." Sabrina and the others were a bit surprised at that. Not about Lorelei's wandwork, which was very good, but about the Professor's positive attitude despite her loss.

"Really?" Sabrina asked surprised. Checking her braid, Lorelei nodded.

"Yes. He recognised that the loss was Aster's fault, since he absolutely refused to work with me. Not much of a team player and I am of the wrong gender." At this the other girls around her rolled their eyes. All too familiar with Aster and his opinions. His family was steeped in tradition and one of the first wizarding settlers in the US, which made them think of themselves as a kind of aristocracy. The group returned their attention to the arena, when Malfoy approached Aster. All the girls leaned forward, hoping to catch some of the conversation.

Aster was still fuming about the loss and the undeserved praise from Professor Ponce for Lorelei, the untalented bitch. She had fucked up. Her only job had been to watch his back and she'd failed spectacularly. How was that worth of praise?

"Mr Thornwood...what was my instruction before the duel began?" Professor Ponce asked him with a stern expression. Aster sighed, looking to the ceiling, trying to find patience and a civil tone for a man he couldn't find any respect for. His mother and grandmother however would be appalled if he addressed an authority figure without the proper respect.

"To work as a team, sir." He ground out. Professor Ponce nodded, his mien not changing.

"Exactly, Mr Thornwood. Now, Ms Falidae offered a strategy at the beginning. What was your reasoning for ignoring her?" Sighing in annoyance that he had to explain the obvious to his Professor, Aster crossed his arms.

"Women are not good at duelling, sir. They do not have the necessary instincts or the inclination." At this his Professor raised his eyebrows a little, while the rest of his face remained impassive.

"Truly? Well Mr Thornwood. I hope you will have a comfortable sofa when you marry. You'll be using it a lot. Women follow different strategies most of the time, yes. But do not underestimate them. Their approach is more devious as a rule. Also, you failed this test. You may leave." Without any further explanation, the Professor turned away from Aster and moved towards the bleachers, leaving Aster behind, slack-jawed. He needed a minute to catch himself, but anger quickly made him turn towards the ponce who believed he knew better.

"Wait a minute!" Aster bellowed. All conversation ceased and all eyes were now on him. He didn't care. "You can't kick me off the team. Without me, there will be no support from my family and then this team is done!" Malfoy turned back to him, his freaky grey eyes cold.

"I can and I have. At the beginning of this I told you all that I am building a team. Meaning you will all have to work together. I do not care who your parents are or what kind of contributions they make to the university. Besides, I or the program do not need their money. No one will be able to buy their way onto the team. The program is well funded and if your family makes an issue out of you not being on the team, let them. Now will you leave of your own accord or do I have to call for campus security to remove you?" Aster stared at the Professor. Normally the threat of his family's name and removal of funds from the university got him what he wanted. Not this time and he had no idea how to deal with it. Everyone waited with baited breath for a moment. Malfoy raised a brow and indicated the doors with a tilt of his head. Feeling at a loss what to do, Aster tucked tail and left. The doors closed behind him with a loud clap in the absolute silence of the duelling gym.

"Let me reiterate for all of you, who did not listen closely before. We are building a TEAM. Make no mistake. There WILL be women on this team. If you cannot deal with that or are unwilling to work together with any of the people present here currently, then leave now. I will not tolerate bullying or prejudice in my team. I do not care who you are related to, how much your family donates or whatever else makes you the very special snowflake that you think you are. Talent counts here. Not connections." His steely gaze moved over the students in attendance, lingering on the former duelling team members still sitting on the bleachers. Almost all of them wearing faces as dark as thunderclouds. Waiting for a minute, Malfoy turned his back on the students and moved back to the duelling arena. Behind him the majority of the former duelling team got up and left as a group. No one said anything. Francis was flabbergasted and had found a new idol. Professor Malfoy was all he aspired to be. Poised and self-assured. The next team was set up to fight against James and Emilio and the try-outs continued.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Over the next two hours, all of them were teamed up with someone else. Sometimes with people they'd never even spoken to, which made for interesting dynamics. The remaining members of the old duelling team did their best to control their reactions and remain in the running for the final team. Francis was a little panicked over being partnered with Sabrina Maidwater, who he'd had a crush on for forever. While they still lost to the nimbler James and Emilio, they put up a valiant fight and he learned that Sabrina was astonishingly talented. She basically flew across the arena, while he tried to keep up and do his part. They actually managed to corner James, but Emilio outmanoeuvred them and the duel ended like all the others with the Southies taking the win. Sweating he sat back down on the bleachers, happy and glowing that Malfoy had not disqualified him despite his, as he felt, mediocre performance.

"Well done all. For those of you still remaining, you have made it to the final stage. You can all be proud of yourself. The final test will be a written exam, given by Professor Granger in lecture hall 221 A. You have thirty minutes to clean up and get there. Anybody not within the lecture hall until 3 pm will automatically be kicked off the team. Thank you." In a rush all students got up and started leaving the gym. Sabrina actually waved goodbye to Francis and he could barely believe it. Waving dreamily himself, he was jostled from his dream state by a clap to his shoulder. Looking over, he met Keisha's gaze. A bright smile was on her face.

"Good going, Francis." She said with a smile and a wink and left. Breathing deep, Francis smiled and left as well. Outside again a crowd was waiting for them. Again Clarence was waiting for him and he smiled brightly when he caught up with his room mate and friend.

"How did it go?" Clarence asked eagerly. Francis waved him on and both made their way to their dorm.

"Apparently I'm not a total failure. At least I'm not out, like Aster." He chuckled at that and Clarence joined him.

"Yes, he left alone and I assumed the try-out was over, but no one else left. Elisa asked where the rest was and he basically blew up. Kept yelling about how Professor Malfoy was an incompetent hack and that the Dean would hear from his family." Clarence snickered. Francis joined him.

"Let him. Professor Malfoy made it clear that it doesn't matter who you are or what connections your family has. Either you have the talent and the willingness to work with the program, or you're out. The Professor confronted Aster in front of everybody and gave no quarter. I mean, I never want to be on the end of the stare Professor Malfoy gave Aster. Anyway, I have to hit the shower again and be in lecture hall 221 A until 3 pm or I'm automatically off the team." Clarence frowned and looked over to the building in question.

"Why do you need to go the Exploding Hall?" He asked. The potions and herbology building had received this inglorious nickname after blowing up twice in one semester, after two different experiments went a little haywire and took most of the roof and one wall with it. Potioneers and herbologists had a reputation for being a little weird. Probably all the fumes and pollens they inhaled. Not to mention the many plants the herbologists tended to smoke for 'research' purposes.

"There is a written test too. I have no idea what it will be about, but I will take it." Clarence opened the door to their dorm room and sat on his bed.

"You know, this duelling team sounds as if there's much more to it." He mused. Francis shrugged.

"Maybe, but I can still take my regular classes and fit in the training in between. Shouldn't be too hard. And as I said before, it would look great on my resumee. I'm not part of any of the other clubs, so this is it for me." Clarence snorted and leaned back on his bed.

"I told you a hundred times you can come with me to the chess club." Francis took off his shirt and shook his head.

"Sorry, but chess is not really my game and I'm already a nerd. No need to put two crosshairs on my back." Chuckling Clarence threw a pillow at him, while Francis made his way into their tiny bathroom.

xXx

Little by little the lecture hall filled with the prospective duelling team members. Each of them looked around curiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of the third Professor their other coaches had been talking about. Apparently she wasn't there yet and so they each sat in clusters of friends. In the front row five young men and women sat, who none of them knew from around campus. Immediately the speculations sparked amongst the students, who these newcomers might be. They couldn't be Southies, as all knew those already. Heated discussions were going on, while time ticked by. At precisely 3 pm, the doors closed automatically.

"Welcome." The feminine voice had all of them look around. At the very back, Professor Granger stood on the top steps of the auditorium. The men sat up straighter at seeing her. Some of them gaped. She wore the black Professor's robes, but since they were open in the front, they also saw she wore an ivory silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, with black pumps. The slightly open blouse was paired with a pearl necklace. A very classy outfit, but at the same time it had all men wondering what was underneath.

"You are all here to take a written exam prepared by me. I will test you on charms, hexes, potions, herbology and defensive spells." As she spoke, she descended the stairs, her heels the only sound in the room. "Read the questions and answer those you can. You have two hours. I will collect the tests and then meet with Professor's Malfoy and Zabini. The results will be posted tomorrow on the community board. Those results are final and cannot be contested. Unless one of those chosen decides to drop out due to clashes between normal course work and the classes needed for the duelling team, you cannot apply for the team until next term." She had now reached the lectern and faced the students eagerly listening to her.

"I also want to welcome the Guards-in-training who are here to get another degree under their belt." She smiled at the five strangers in the front row. They smiled back at her and one of the men even winked. Shaking her head, Professor Granger swept her hand over the room and parchments appeared in front of all the students. "Quills are provided, you may begin now." The crackling of parchment was heard all over the hall and this was followed by the scratching of quills. All bowed their heads and most wore creases of concentration.

Emilio turned over the parchment and looked at the questions. The first few were easy. They were about standard spells and hexes he'd used almost all his adult life. The questions got progressively harder though. It entailed proper counters for spells he'd never heard of or simply read about one time in his tattered school book in high school. It only got worse when he got to the potions questions. Some of the herbology ones he remembered in parts. He glanced over to Jamal, who was scribbling like mad. Sighing he looked back to his own parchments. There wasn't even half the spaces filled out on his questionnaire. Sweating he hunkered over his test. Professor Malfoy had said he was on the team, but he wanted to earn his way. Just like the rest of the team. Francesca was grumbling next to him her quill scratching viciously through an answer she'd given. Her hair was mussed due to the amount of times she'd gone through it with her hand. Emilio felt for her. He wasn't doing much better, but his hair was cut tightly to his head, so it couldn't stand on end. He rubbed his hands on his pants, trying to dry the sweat on them. Trying to take a deep breath, he looked up and met Professor Granger's gaze. She smiled softly at him and nodded. Swallowing he nodded back, breathed deep and dug into his memories of what his underpaid teachers had been trying to get into his head. Before he knew it, a bell sounded and the parchment in front of him flew towards the lectern. Some of the others looked as concerned as him and threw the lectern longing glances; obviously wanting to get their test back to change or add answers. Sighing Emilio leaned back, looking to his friends. James' face was as impassive as ever, while Keisha and Francesca were nervously chewing on their hair. Jamal breathed deep and seemed also a little nervous. Only a few among the students wore confident expressions. Even the Guards-in-training seemed a little nervous, which served to calm Emilio a little.

Hermione looked over the prospective team members and smiled at the Southies. She could tell they were nervous and from the discussions she'd had with them over the last week, she knew that they were concerned about the gap in their education compared to the other students. She had talked with Malfoy about this concern of hers. She would not cut the kids any slack in her class. It would be unfair to the rest. So she would have to give remedial classes to them and they would have to work hard to keep up. Hefting the questionnaires on her hip, she looked over the assembled.

"Thank you for your time. I will go over these tests and then meet with Professors Malfoy and Zabini. Results will be posted tomorrow morning on the community board in the administration building. Have a good day ahead." With that she dismissed them. The five Guards-in-training left first, as they still had training to get back to, while the rest filtered out slowly, discussing the various questions in the test. Hermione made her way over campus and over to Duelling Hall and up the stairs to Malfoy's office. Both Malfoy and Zabini were already there, laughing about something, while sipping on firewhiskey. Pinching her lips she closed the door behind her.

"Drinking this early, gentlemen?" She asked with just a bit of snark. Zabini grinned and threw her an unapologetic wink. Malfoy set his glass down and steeped his fingers.

"We had a long day, Granger and decided to relax a bit. You should try it sometime." She regarded him coldly, while he only raised one of his eyebrows. Blaise hid his smile by taking another sip. Neither of them admitted it, at least not to him, but he could tell that despite their apparent argument, they were enjoying themselves. Well, to each their own.

"Enough with the drinking and the lounging around. If you think I will go through all these tests on my own, you are very much mistaken." Blaise frowned and sat up.

"Why? Grading multiple choice tests shouldn't take much time at all." Hermione rolled her eyes at his answer. Sighing she turned to him, missing Malfoy's eye-roll, as he rightly anticipated a lecture from her.

"A multiple choice test would not help to assess where the students are concerning their knowledge of spells and potions. As such, each question was to be answered in text form. So get comfortable, because all of these have to be rated until tonight, so that we can have the final list ready by tomorrow morning." Groaning dramatically Blaise rested his head on Draco's desk.

"Draco I'm not feeling well. I think I'll head back to my place and lie down." Hermione tsked and shook her head with a small smile.

"If you say so, Blaise. However if you do that, there will be no dinner for you." At that he sat up, his brow creased in thought. Weighing his options he thought what would be better. Turning in early and getting something from a restaurant close to his apartment, or working through a stack of tests and then getting a home-cooked meal from Granger. Grumbling he grabbed a bundle of parchment from her stack.

"You drive a hard bargain woman!" Smiling she sat down in the other chair in front of Malfoy's desk and primly crossed her legs, taking a stack of her own. The rest she left for Malfoy. When he nipped at his firewhiskey again without making a move to take his own stack, she raised an eyebrow at him. Holding her gaze, he swallowed another sip and licked his lips, to then reach over and take his stack. She'd noticed that he would sometimes do things like this. Openly sexual acts like licking his lips, looking at her chest, touching the small of her back and rubbing it. And she had no idea what it meant to him. Because he would never really follow up on it. It was frustrating the hell out of her. Was he trying to get into a physical relationship? Did he want an emotional one too? Could she get into any kind of intimate relationship with him? It was Malfoy after all. Sure, he'd changed, but at times he could still be his irritating old self, minus the racist views he'd spouted as a child and teen like the good little pureblood parrot that he'd been. On the other hand she couldn't deny that he was attractive, intelligent, caring for those under his care and hot. What?! No...well...yes. If she was perfectly honest, he was hot. He could keep up with her in conversations. Something that was astonishingly hard to come by, even in academic circles. And she'd found that it turned her on, when he started discussing theories with her, defending his standpoint with logical arguments. Then there was also his sense of style. While she by no means was into fashion, she appreciated his dress code very much. Even in slacks and a shirt he was absolutely delectable. Something the other female professors had noted as well. And curiously Hermione found herself territorial about Draco. But without any indication from him she would not initiate anything. She'd been burned good by her last experience with the other sex and was not eager for a repeat performance.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jamal was sitting at his desk, working on his remedial schedule set up by Professor Granger. While he felt that he'd done OK on the test today, it only made him realise how much he had to catch up on. A furtive knock on his door had him look up.

"Yes?" The door opened a bit and Emilio stuck his head in.

"Hey Jamal. You busy?" He asked. Shrugging Jamal leant back in his chair.

"Kind of. Trying to catch up on the stuff Professor Granger wrote down. Why?" Sighing in relief, Emilio opened the door all the way; his books and laptop under his arm.

"Good. Then we can study together. Do you mind?" Actually Jamal did, but he couldn't say no when he saw the slightly desperate and hopeful gleam in the other man's eyes.

"Sure. Come in and sit down. What are you currently working on?" He asked. Emilio opened one of the books after sitting down. His spiral notebook caught between the pages had haphazard notes on them.

"Potions. I was never very interested and the lab at high school...well you remember what it looked like." Jamal nodded. He had enjoyed the topic, but due to the lack of funds, much of their work had been theoretical. The school hadn't been able to afford the ingredients. As such, they had only brewed a handful of potions in all the time he'd been in high school.

"What are you having trouble with?" Emilio shook his head and chuckled darkly.

"How about everything? One of the questions on the test was how you can tell whether the knotgrass is too dry to be used and what dried knotgrass would do to a potion. I've never even seen knotgrass! How should I know what effect too dry knotgrass would have on a potion?! Not to mention what kind of potion it's actually needed for!" Frustrated he rubbed his head. Jamal could empathise. He knew exactly what Emilio was talking about. He himself had trouble with this as well. He'd been to the library a few times, looking up books and images of the different ingredients.

"I know what you mean. Which is why I wanted to ask Professor Granger to give us an overview. Provided she has the time. I mean she has classes and then there are all the preparations and such she has to make. If she doesn't have the time, I'll ask Professor Malfoy." Emilio nodded and tapped his pen on his notebook.

"That whole confiding thing again, huh?" He mumbled. Jamal nodded.

"Yes. Look I know you aren't comfortable depending on someone or trusting in other people, but if you really want to make something of this, you will have to jump over your own shadow here and there. Did you think I was jumping at the chance of Professor M helping me? Hell no! I was sceptical as shit. But he's kept his word on all the promises he's made so far and he's been really nice to me. Ever since my dad left, I had to take care of everything. For the first time in my life I can actually do something I want and the man I have to thank for that is Professor Malfoy. So I am going to do everything I can to prove that he didn't misplace the trust he put in me. It's a burden, sure, but he doesn't expect me or any of us to miraculously become scholars over night. He knows we have catching up to do and as long as we make a good effort of it, he will help. As will Professors Zabini and Granger." Emilio sighed deeply after Jamal's little speech and his shoulders seemed to loose some of their tension.

"Do you think Professor Granger will be over tonight again for dinner?" He asked. "Maybe we can ask her about the potions stuff then." Jamal smiled slyly.

"Oh, she will be over tonight. Don't worry. I told you, she somehow believes Professor Malfoy incapable of feeding himself or us. As long as she's got the time, she's going to come over and cook. Provided we help of course." Nodding and smiling a little himself, Emilio folded one of his legs under him and got comfortable.

"Guess we should get a head start on this potion business so that we don't come off as complete idiots." Both chuckled and got down to studying.

xXx

Humming to herself, Hermione moved through the grocery store of her choice in the new neighbourhood she lived in now. It was a cozy, small wizarding community in the middle of urban Salem. The muggle world was just a short trip away, which Hermione appreciated, since she liked to 'muggle' it now and then. Magic was all fine and dandy and made some aspects of life easier, but for some things, she still preferred muggle alternatives. Like movies, theatre and some doctors. Her parents had been appalled to find out she'd not been to a regular dentist ever since she'd moved out of her childhood home. At the time Hermione had been a little preoccupied with staying out of the hands of snatchers and staying alive and then with all the trials and picking up the pieces after the war. When she'd returned her parents' memories they were overjoyed to find her safe, angry for having their memories tampered with and miffed that she hadn't taken care of her teeth. She loved them both dearly, but sometimes their priorities were schewed. It probably was a danger of being too caught up in your profession. She herself hated it when reports were not executed properly or researched in a poor manner. When it came to academia, Hermione Granger gave no quarter.

It had been her way to deal after the war. She had done what came naturally to her and her therapist had encouraged her, as well as the others. During her final year at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall had seen to it that a dozen therapists and counsellors were waiting for the students who returned. The ministry had offered similar services to the rest of the population. Rebuilding after the war didn't only entail bricks and stone, or politics. It was much more about rebuilding the society around them. Despite the Death Eaters and Voldemort only being in power for less than a year, the damage they had done had been devastating. In an unprecedented decision, the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had reached out to the muggle Prime Minister and asked for trustworthy medical personnel to assist in the healing process. Both physical and mental. During that time, great strides had been made in the integration of muggle medical practices into the magical world. While most wizards still preferred the magical treatments and potions, others were feeling better when the person in the room assessing them had no wand and no idea how to use it. Some Death Eaters and their sympathisers had done 'experiments' to find out, how muggleborns 'stole' their magic.

Hermione's sessions had been intense. She basically hid out in the library at Hogwarts in between. It was her safe haven and the books were always a comfort to her. Capable of taking her far away from the dark memories constantly hammering at her during the night. Her therapist, Janet, was an incredible help. She made sure that Hermione confronted her demons and didn't simply bury them. Like some of her class mates did. Chief among them Ronald. The changes in his character came on slow, and whenever Hermione brought up dark memories in order for them to work through them together, he simply deflected and refused to listen. He chose only to remember the glorious details. Like breaking into Gringott's and riding out of there on a dragon. Infiltrating the Ministry under the Death Eaters' noses and his duels during the final battle. When she asked how he felt about his brother's death or the burning Burrow, he simply turned away from her, angry. Sometimes even shouting at her. He had been convinced that she only wanted to belittle his part in bringing down Voldemort. His old insecurities rearing their ugly heads. Their arguments became more and more heated, while Harry and Ginny tried to stay neutral throughout. In the end, it had all blown up in her face, when she caught Ron cheating and while she had been perfectly happy just to kick his sorry arse out of their apartment, he had run straight to the Prophet and painted her as a scarlet woman. That anyone had believed that drivel had been the last straw that broke the camel's back. Before she moved to Salem, Hermione had called Janet, informing her about her move. Janet had been supportive of the move and encouraged Hermione to make the most of it. A change in scenery and job would give her a better perspective on her life and goals. And also to recapture some of her lost teenage years. The first time Hermione ever went to a club for dancing and drinking, she'd been twenty-two. Most of her muggle peers from her primary school days had been doing that since they were sixteen. She'd gotten roaring drunk and it hit her hard when she'd stumbled back into her apartment that night, what the Death Eaters truly had stolen from her. When she was sixteen, she had worried about life and death situations. There had been no time for silly infatuations, getting drunk or generally doing stupid, teenage things. Simply sitting somewhere on the grounds of Hogwarts castle and snogging a boy had never been on her agenda, because she had been too busy making sure that she and her boys survived. She'd called Janet that same night, sobbing and in between explanations apologising profusely for waking her. Janet had been kind though and assured her it was alright and that despite it feeling bad now, this was a big breakthrough for Hermione. And it had been. Realising what she'd missed had been sad, but also freeing. She had taken some time to discover herself and what she wanted in life and to simply live. Party a little, take a vacation. The reward she and the others had received for stopping Voldemort allowing her the freedom to do so. It had been so strange on her first vacation since she'd taken that skiing trip with her parents many years prior. Never truly trusting the calm around her and always at the ready. It had taken her an entire week to trust the serenity around her. But then it had been the most relaxed she'd felt in years. During a massage she'd actually started crying and the masseuse had been terrified that she'd hurt Hermione in some way.

Shaking her head she continued through the aisles of the store, picking fresh fruit and vegetables, so that she could feed the ravenous group waiting at Duelling Hall. Some would call it curious that she cooked for her former nemesis, but when she'd walked in on Jamal and Malfoy sitting at the couch table with open pizza boxes in front of them and napkins tucked into the collars of their shirts, she hadn't been able to help herself. Her inability to produce somewhat edible food while Harry, Ron and her had been on the run had led to her going to various cooking classes and she'd found that it relaxed her immensely. Adding in the fact that she'd learned that home cooked meals were much more healthy than anything that came out of a can or had been frozen first. There was nothing worse for Hermione than feeling inadequate and taking cooking classes had quickly taken care of that. And while Malfoy had complained at first, she knew that he appreciated the effort she made. She'd observed his interactions with Jamal and it had...warmed her heart. Draco seemed truly invested in the boy and not for some financial or social gain. Simply helping because he could. It had made her feel better about her decision to come to the United States and having Malfoy for a boss. Absently her fingers glided over the different ingredients and from time to time, some of them found their way into her basket. She wondered whether Malfoy had received counselling. He seemed ok, but then Ron had seemed alright as well. A hard topic to approach in a conversation. Maybe she should ask Blaise. He was much more laid back than Malfoy and they didn't have nearly as much history between them. Smiling she walked up to the counter and paid for her groceries. Hefting the bags, she made her way back towards campus. The district she lived in wasn't next to the campus, but there was a bus going from here directly to campus every twenty minutes. It was much like the knight bus, but the drivers were not nearly as suicidal. As she passed the gates of the campus after the short bus ride, she breathed deeply and a content smile stretched her lips. A soft breeze ruffled her hair a bit. Her decision to come here seemed to be better and better each day. She could walk around without a reporter taking a photo of her every second step and no one made any comments on her style of clothing or the way she wore her hair. The constant scrutiny had made her tense and unsure of herself. This was much better.

Some of the students greeted her, as she made her way over the campus and she cordially returned their greetings. She didn't know many of them. Only the handful that had taken her test. However the rest of the students seemed to know her already. Curious. Thinking nothing of it, she pushed open the door to Duelling Hall with her hip. She had barely taken more than a few steps inside, before Keisha and Francesca were at her side, helping with the bags.

"Oh thank you. They were getting a bit heavy." She admitted. Both girls smiled. Their shyness having fled as they grew more confident in their new surroundings.

"No problem, Professor. I mean, you are feeding us. The least we can do is help." Hermione grinned slyly.

"Your word in Malfoy's ear." She mumbled, while hanging her coat on the hanger in the kitchen and putting on the apron. She loved the blouse she was wearing and it wouldn't do to get any stains on it. Despite magic at her command, stains were hard to get out of silk no matter what the method. The girls giggled at that, which Hermione didn't completely understand, but smiled indulgently nonetheless. As they started cleaning and cutting the vegetables, the boys filtered into the room. James still carrying a book, his notebook and a pen behind his ear. Hermione was heartened to see that they were studying, since they clearly needed it after she'd seen their tests. It was no fault of theirs, that their school had done a less than stellar job in educating them properly. She had been right in choosing text answers. While they at times didn't know the proper name or classification of spells, herbs or potions, they were often able to describe them at least. It was a place to start, but she feared for all of them that their entire first semester would be a constant uphill battle. Which was another reason why she liked cooking for them and giving them this outlet. She knew what it was like to be in a foreign place and cut off from your family and all you knew and were familiar with. The routine and repetitive tasks involved in cooking would hopefully help them to relax a bit and take their minds off of the studying they had to do. James put his book down, still remaining mute and started to pull out plates and cutlery. Hermione took no offence. She'd quickly found out that James only talked when he had something to say. A rare trait in this day and age. Jamal and Emilio were helping the girls chop vegetables, while she was busy cleaning the chicken meat she'd bought. She noted that Jamal threw her glances from time to time and nudged Emilio. It didn't take long before the Latino boy grew annoyed by this, but Hermione chose not to interfere. She wanted them to decide for themselves whether to trust her or not. It wasn't something one could force. She concentrated on mixing the herbs for the meat coating with olive oil, while Jamal hissed something at Emilio. Sighing the boy put down the knife, gripped the table, while staring at it.

"Professor Granger?" She looked up at him in a distracted manner, so as not to spook him.

"Yes, Emilio?" The others continued in their tasks, but she could tell they were all listening intently.

"I...I was wondering whether it would be possible for you to...to show us some of the ingredients that were asked about in the test you gave us today." He mumbled quickly. Smiling she continued in her task.

"Of course, Emilio. It will have to be after classes though. As of Monday next week regular classes will start and I fear I won't have time before then." Nodding slowly Emilio breathed a bit easier.

"OK, I mean, of course. After classes. Whenever is fine with you." She nodded to him and started laying out the chicken breast on a baking tray to be put in the oven.

"How are the carrots doing, Francesca?" She asked without further addressing Emilio's request, which seemed to relax the youth even further.

"Looking good, Professor. Should be done in about ten minutes." Nodding Hermione put the chicken in the pre-heated oven.

"Very good. Please put your finished salad in the fridge. I will head up to talk to Professor Malfoy for a moment." Leaving the kitchen, she heard the whispering start up behind her.

"What do you think she wants to discuss with Professor M?" Keisha stage whispered. Jamal's amused voice answered her.

"She's probably reminding him that he won't get anything, unless he contributes." At this the others chuckled as well. Even James. It made her smile that they were adjusting so well. She made her way towards the stairs, but a hand caught her wrist before she could take the first step up. For a second her entire body became tense. She didn't deal well with surprises, but her reaction was much better than a few years ago. Then she already would have pulled her wand and blasted whoever touched her to kingdom come. Now she took a deep breath and had to consciously relax her muscles. Turning, she met Malfoy's concerned gaze.

"Everything alright?" He asked softly, his grip on her wrist becoming tender and his fingers caressing her pulse point. It made her shiver in awareness of not only him, but his proximity to her. When had she moved? Or had he moved? Why was there almost no space between them?

"Ahm...yes. Yes I am fine. I was actually looking for you." She moved back a bit and withdrew her wrist from his grasp. It wouldn't do to be distracted by him. No matter how delectable he looked with his slightly ruffled hair and rolled up sleeves showcasing his strong forearms. Wait, what?! Something was obviously wrong with her. What was he doing to her? "Besides, I thought your skulking in the dark days were over." She admonished while clearing her throat. Chuckling he spread his arms a little.

"Once a Slytherin and all that. What do you need?" He asked, while looking into her eyes. It somehow seemed to her as if he was asking much more than this, but she wasn't sure what.

"Well, if you want to dine with the rest of us, you will oil the chicken in the oven every five minutes for the next twenty." She told him, feeling more assured by giving him orders in a conflict between them. For once the conflict was amicable. It was like a game between them and it was...familiar. Their relationship up until now had always been adversarial and ever since their first meeting in person in Aughrim they had been at a loss how to change that dynamic. Despite his sometimes flirtatious advances, she wasn't sure what Draco wanted their relationship to be. Friends? Colleagues? More than friends? If there was romantic intent, she would need much clearer signals.

"As the Lady commands." He said with a boyish grin and an elegant bow. Laughing she patted his shoulder and lightly shoved him towards the kitchen.

"Go. Make yourself useful." She admonished and shook her head with a soft smile. Looking over his shoulder, he winked at her. Setting her arms akimbo, Hermione remained in the foyer, not sure what to make of his behaviour. One moment he was flirting with her, the next he was acting like the 'old' Malfoy, all haughty and snobby. She couldn't deny that she liked the flirtatious side of him. He knew how to play the game and make it interesting.

The vibration of her cell phone ringing in her pocket snapped her out of her thoughts. Retrieving it from the pocket of the loose slacks she'd changed into after making a stop at her apartment and before going shopping, she looked at the display to see who it was. With a smile she swiped her finger over the display to answer.

"Janet! It's so nice to hear from you." She moved to the living room, absently righting a cushion on her way over to the window seat across from the door.

"It is good to hear you in such good spirits, Hermione. I take it the move went well and you have settled in?" Her therapist's voice was deep and calm and Hermione felt herself relaxing just listening to it. Nodding she took a seat and crossed her legs.

"Yes and yes. It was a bit hectic, but my family and friends were very supportive and helped."

"Good to hear. Now you asked for a referral to another therapist in Salem and after getting in touch with your ministry and the American one, we found a suitable candidate. Her name is Adele Morris, she's been in the profession for thirty years and comes highly recommended. She is an MD as well, so if your night terrors should come back, she can prescribe something for you." Nodding earnestly, while shivering a little, Hermione picked at her trousers. A nervous habit she'd picked up during sessions, when she didn't know what to do with her hands. For the first year, sleeping a whole night through had only been possible for her with dreamless sleep potion. Due to its highly addictive nature, her therapist and healer had decided to switch her to muggle drugs. These were dangerous as well, but it was discovered by tests done at St Mungo's, that a purging potion could cut down tremendously on the detox period, helping those in danger of addiction to kick the habit faster and with manageable withdrawal symptoms. The research was driven by necessity, since a large portion of wizarding Britain had become dependant on a variety of potions to alleviate their stress or to help them relax or sleep. Hermione was proud that she was able to sleep almost always without any medical aid now. Sometimes something would trigger a memory throughout her day and then the night could be tough, but she'd developed strategies to deal with that. At first this had involved chemical assistance, but by now a hot cup of cocoa, dressing in her favourite pyjamas, snuggling into a blanket and watching a silly movie or reading a book did the same for her.

"Sounds good. Could you email me her details? I will make an appointment for a first consultation beginning of next week. I assume you've already been in touch with her?" Janet hummed.

"I only gave her the broad strokes. If your first appointment goes well and you want to continue seeing her, I will forward your file to Dr Morris." Nodding Hermione smiled.

"Sounds good. Thank you for all your effort concerning this."

"Happy to help, Hermione. I for one am happy that your are continuing your therapy." Nibbling on her lip, Hermione looked at her lap.

"Yes, well...can't get better unless I seek the help needed, right?" It had hit her a few months into her therapy that she would be doing this for many years to come. Maybe even her entire life. At first she'd been angry that she would have to depend on doctors and therapists to hold her hand all the time, but with the passing of time and more sessions she soon noticed the positive effect the treatments were having on her and her peers. At least those, who chose to attend sessions. By now she looked at her appointments like those she had with her gynecologist. Not really pleasant, but necessary and afterwards you always felt better.

"Yes and it is always good to know that the patient realizes they need help." Janet sing-songed and ended with a chuckle. It was infectious and had Hermione chuckling as well.

Their discussion was interrupted by a sudden commotion and loud banging coming from the kitchen. Quickly Hermione moved to the kitchen door. She barely heard Janet's concerned voice in her ear, when she took in the chaos around her. There was oil on the floor, along with various vegetables. The salad was strewn all over the kitchen island in the middle. Malfoy's shirt was stained with the mixture she had made for the chicken, which was in part lying on the floor as well. It seemed as if he had burned his hand when pulling out the tray.

"Janet, I will call you back. I am fine." Hermione said tonelessly, taking in the spoiled food. At the sound of her voice, Malfoy turned back from the sink, where he had apparently held his hand under cold water. He was currently sucking on his index finger, his eyes wide when he caught sight of her.

"Nit wes nen assident." He mumbled around his finger. Shaking her head, a soft smile spreading on her face, she advanced on the flustered and terrified man. This is what happened if she left the man alone in the kitchen. Softly she took his wrist in her hand, much as he had hers and pulled his hand down, so that she could inspect the damage.

"I am so sorry, Granger. It was an accident, honest." She looked up and his face was right there. His eyes crestfallen and sad. Taking a chance she caressed his cheek with her other hand, wiping a bit of olive oil off in the process.

"I know, Malfoy. Now let me take a look at this." Pulling her wand out, she waved it over the angry red spots on his fingers. The cooling sensation of her spell had him sigh in relief and slump a bit, which moved him even closer to her. Motioning with her wand negligently at the kitchen, it started to clean itself and looked up at him again. She swallowed when she noted that there was barely any room left between them.

"We need to put a salve on this." She whispered. He nodded, his gaze fixed on her lips.

"Yes." He murmured. Her heart was thrumming in her chest. Was she really going to do this? Was she going to kiss Draco Malfoy? Yes, they were cordial in their dealings and by the way he looked at her now, there was no longer any question in her mind what kind of relationship he wanted with her. The question was, did she want the same? Was she ready for anything of that nature? And was this serious for him or just another notch on his belt?

All of those thoughts immediately fled her mind, when she felt his warm hand at the small of her back, pulling her tighter against him. Her hands landed on his chest to keep her balance and besides the soft material of his shirt, all she could feel was the hard, warm muscle underneath. Dear God but the man was ripped. As if in a trance, their heads moved towards each other, their eyelids fluttering shut.

With a loud clap the front door closed and Blaise's loud greeting had them both jump and move back. Uncertain Draco looked at anything but her, pointed at the stairs and mumbled something about having healing salve upstairs. Without any more explanations he quickly made his retreat, almost running up the stairs. Wide-eyed and confused, she remained in the kitchen. In the next moment, Blaise appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, confused about the amount of magic going on. He knew that Granger preferred no magic in her kitchen.

"What's this?" He asked. Still a little confused, Hermione opened the fridge a little stiffly to see what else she had to work with to salvage dinner.

"Dr...I mean Malfoy had a little accident. Don't worry. I'll make sure there will be food on the table." She busied herself with new preparations, ignoring Blaise's raised eyebrow. Indicating he wanted a more detailed explanation. Shrugging he turned away and made his way up the stairs. Whistling a tune, he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and made his way towards Draco's office. The man practically lived there nowadays. Blaise didn't have to prepare all that much. He still had his training schedules from school and he'd simply adjusted those a little to plan for his training with the team. Opening the door without knocking, Blaise searched for Draco. His friend was sitting a his desk, rubbing his hands frantically with a foul smelling salve he immediately identified as dittany extract salve. It smelled absolutely awful, but it took care of just about anything in a jiffy. Expensive as hell too, since extracting the essence of dittany was dangerous. Sitting in the chair in front of the desk, he put his feet up on the corner.

"So the chaos in the kitchen is your fault." He chuckled. When Draco looked up, the panicked look in his eye had Blaise swallow the jokes on his tongue and put his feet back down. "What happened? Did you have a fight with Granger?" He asked. From watching their interactions over the last few weeks, he'd been convinced that those two were moving forward nicely. Sure, their flirting was a little bit different, but who was he to judge. Whatever worked for them.

"I almost kissed her! After ruining dinner, Blaise! I mean...I...we've never even been out for dinner. It would have been all sorts of inappropriate. I am her boss!" Blaise bit his lip, doing his best not to laugh at his friend's outburst. It was funny to see his usually so debonair friend panicking about something as simple as a kiss.

"So? It's something you've been wanting to do for weeks now." He leaned forward. "Did she hit you?" He asked concerned. He hoped not, since Draco was very sensitive when it came to showing affection. If it got rebuffed, he tended to never truly trust that person again. Draco had turned to pacing behind his desk, but at Blaise's question he stared aghast at his friend.

"No. No, no, no. I mean, she probably should have. Right? I mean I haven't courted her properly, so how should she know my intentions." Sighing Blaise leaned back in his seat. Sometimes the antiquated way in which his friend had been raised really got on his nerves. It made dealing with him sometimes difficult. Like now.

"Then send her flowers or write her a poem. Whatever you do, to make your intentions clear." Groaning Draco collapsed in his chair.

"I can't." He mumbled from behind his hands, into which he had lowered his head. Frowning Blaise took in his friend.

"What? Because you're her employer? That's just a technicality. She's employed by the university. It's McPherson's name on her contract." He pointed out. Draco sighed and let his hands fall to the desk, while scrunching his nose. The smell of the salve still much in evidence on his hands.

"I'm paying her though. In case you forgot, I am footing the bill for our program currently. Paying her means she's working for me. Who knows what people would make of it, if it became known that she was romantically involved with me. No. I will not be responsible for any rumours to start, that could threaten her career or diminish her accomplishments. I'll simply have to wait until the university is the one paying her." He nodded to himself. Blaise looked to the ceiling, praying for patience.

"Then what are going to tell her about your almost kiss?" Draco's eyes bugged.

"Tell her? Nothing. I mean...we're both adults. And it was a little embarrassing. I am sure she just wants to forget this little incident happened." He nodded to himself, as if needing to convince not just Blaise, but himself too by this little action. But Blaise was not convinced. In fact he was a little angry.

"You can't pretend it didn't happen, Draco. Granger deserves better than that. Just explain to her what your reasoning is. I am sure she'll understand. And if you don't, she'll be confused and hurt. You will regret it when she decides that you are simply not worth the wait because you won't talk to her. As you said, she's an adult. She can deal with complex issues. Hell, we are talking about Granger here!" Draco shook his head, stood and turned to his window. His shoulders slumping down.

"No Blaise. I should have respected her and treated her properly. Hermione is well worth any wait. I will bide my time, become her friend and when the time is right, I will court her as she is so very deserving of. Until then...I will continue to watch over her from the shadows." It may sound dramatic, but Blaise knew that that was exactly what Draco had been doing. Granger didn't know it, but she had an almost constant shadow. He only hoped that no one ever actually hurt the girl. If so, Draco might loose it completely.

"You will regret that, Draco. She is one in a million and the university board will not make a decision before the end of the semester and the first few contests. Do you really think that nobody else will notice Granger in all that time? Because I know about at least three other professors, who are already making plans to actually ask her out. On a date. And I am sure that they do not intend to only be 'friends' with her. Will you be able to deal with that?" He stared at Draco's back, which had become painfully tense. Out of Blaise's sight, Draco looked at his right arm. The faded Black mark stared back at him. He usually kept it covered up.

"I will deal, Blaise. I won't stand in the way of her being happy."

 **Author's note: I always found it curious that recovery was never truly addressed. Not in the books or the movies. Which is why I decided to make it a part of my story. Hermione has been through very traumatic events, including torture. No matter how centred you are or how sound of mind, it will leave a mark. It will also have an impact later on. Thanks for all the positive reviews. I'm sitting here in the middle of the night/early morning just for you guys. ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Hermione was working on autopilot. Fortunately there had been some sausages in the fridge and she had been able to at least save some of the vegetables. It wasn't much, but with a few potatoes, cream and a mixture of herbs, she was able to pull off a potato casserole. It was a bit heavy and she usually preferred rattatouille instead, but she did not have the right ingredients on hand. She was shaken from her thoughts, when Keisha entered the kitchen to get a soda. Confused she looked around.

"Where did the chicken go?" She asked. Sighing Hermione loaded the casseroles into the oven.

"Professor Malfoy burned his hand and the chicken ended up on the floor I fear. Not to worry. I've made some casseroles and you guys won't go hungry." She assured with a soft smile. Keisha looked into the oven.

"Looks good. Sorry about the chicken though." Hermione chuckled and started cleaning up. Keisha grabbed a towel to dry the cleaned implements.

"I felt sorry about your and Francesca's salad. I think Professor Malfoy was nibbling a bit and it became a casualty too." Keisha couldn't help but giggle and it lifted Hermione's spirits as well. On a whole, the entire situation was rather comic. That almost kiss though...that was something she had to ponder a bit. Why had he tucked tail and run? She had been receptive. Maybe she should confide in Blaise? Surely he had been talking to Draco, she meant Malfoy, this entire time. He should know what to make of Malfoy's curious behaviour. She would pull him aside after dinner. In view of classes starting on Monday, she would not have the time to stick around after dinner as she usually did. Finishing the cleaning, she hung the apron back ton its hook and followed Keisha to the living room, where Francesca was lounging on the couch, a book on spells on her lap and a spiral notebook covering half of the pages. James was sitting on the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his back leaned against the couch upon which Francesca was sitting. Hermione had noticed that the boys made sure to always at least be in the vicinity of the two girls ever since Keisha had been tripped in the quad. Keisha retook her seat on the other sofa, picking up her own book and notebook.

"How is the studying going?" Hermione asked kindly, while sitting down on the lounge chair. James only grunted, which had the girls grinning. Hermione had to smile as well.

"It's going OK. Thanks for the revision tables. It helps getting structure into it." Francesca said, while tapping her notebook with her pen.

"That is good to hear. If you need more materials, please let me know. I have already spoken with the head librarian, Mr Knowles, and he will be more than happy to help. He and his staff will be able to help you pick up the books you need. You can trust their recommendations." All three youngsters nodded. They had been hesitant to ask for assistance in the library, since they didn't know or trust the people working there. But if Professor Granger gave her vote of confidence, they had to know what they were talking about.

They passed the time in easy conversation and studying, taking advantage of the fact that their professor was there to answer questions. After a few minutes, Jamal and Emilio joined them as well. Hermione got them drinks from the kitchen and remained in her lounging chair, until it was time for dinner. She had done her best to lift their spirits about their prospects. All of the Southies now knew what kind of knowledge gap they were looking at and it seemed to have at first disheartened them a bit. Now they were more positive about actually catching up with the other students.

Their studies were interrupted by Blaise bounding into the room, with a bright smile. He always seemed to be in a good mood. His more laid-back attitude had been a surprise to Hermione, who had been used to Slytherins always being snobby elitists. While in school their interactions had been limited and she had barely taken notice of him. Mainly because all of her attention had either been on getting Harry through the term alive, helping both him and Ron pass their classes, or figuring out what kind of dastardly plot Malfoy was up to. She also had to actively avoid Crabbe and Goyle. While they were not smart enough to hurl insults at her that actually hurt or to comment on her and targeting her insecurities, they had once succeeded in catching her alone. It had not been pretty and the beating they had given had been out of frustration. At first they had tried to hex her, but her magical defences had been too good. By their sheer bulk they had managed to overpower her. Luckily Harry and Ron had never found out. She didn't want to know what they would have done, had they known. Madam Pomfrey had healed her bruises and cracked bones, while McGonagall and Snape had for once joined forces in the severe punishment of the two boys. And they had kept it quiet. Something Hermione had appreciated. She didn't want for open hostilities to break out between Gryffindor and Slytherin. She had no doubt everyone who had been itching for open conflict would have used her attack as an excuse.

"Now here's a picture. Everyone being good and studying." He shuddered dramatically. "A sure sign that I am wrong here." Smiling Hermione shook her head at his antics. Despite his laissez faire attitude to studying she knew he had been in the top ten of their year.

"Oh knock it off, Blaise. We both know you did your bit of studying too in your time." She mildly rebuked him. Winking at her, he sat on the other couch chair.

"Yes, I did. But only because my mother would have cut my allowance down to nothing if my grades had fallen. She is a socialite, but make no mistake. Her son was not only to be a gentleman and eye candy, but also a capable wizard." Grinning the Southies chuckled at his description, while closing their books and notebooks. They had been studying ever since they'd left after taking the test. All of them were hungry after a long day. Hermione rose from her seat and Blaise raised his eyebrows in hope.

"Does this mean that dinner is ready?" He asked with innocent eyes. Smiling she shook her head and shoved his shoulder.

"Get up, you. The least you can do is help me serve." Sighing and looking remarkably put upon, he rose and followed her to the kitchen.

"Just to warn you, I have no idea what any of this is for, except the fridge." Grinning he set his arms akimbo. Turning to him and wringing her hands a bit, Hermione looked out the doors to make sure that no one was close. She wasn't exactly comfortable asking him about the whole almost-kiss thing, but it seemed as if Malfoy wasn't prepared to talk about it, judging from his hasty retreat.

"I was wondering...whether Malfoy talked to you...about what happened earlier. When you came in." Nervous she looked up at him, unsure whether she had made the right decision. His face lost the smile and he sighed while hanging his head.

"Granger, look. It's not as if I do not want to tell you, but I can't. He told me certain things in confidence and despite the Slytherin reputation for being selfish to a fault and untrustworthy, I won't betray his trust in me. And you do not know how much it rankles me. Because there are certain things that I absolutely want to tell you, but I can't." Disappointed she nodded, but she understood where he came from. If Harry had told her something in confidence about Ginny and she would ask her about it. Even if Hermione wanted to tell her, she wouldn't.

"I understand. Thank you for your honesty. You are a good friend." He shook his head, sighing deeply while hanging his head.

"Yes. I am the greatest mate ever." She nudged him with her shoulder, trying to cheer him up.

"We all have to make our own decisions. Now let's get everyone fed." She smiled gently and pulled open the oven.

xXx

Francis woke up before sunrise the next morning. Today the results would be posted about who made it on the team. Getting up as quietly as possible so that Clarence wouldn't wake up, he got into the bathroom to shower and clean up. He kept combing his hair and straightening his shirt. Looking at his watch he hoped that time had made a miraculous leap forward, but the hands on the clock were still stubbornly on just a few minutes past six. The administration building wouldn't open before nine o'clock. Sighing he looked to Clarence, who was still sleeping deeply. On soft feet Francis left the bathroom, picked up his backpack with a few of his books and left the dorm room. The halls were empty and silent in the dorm building. It seemed he was the only person awake. It was oddly beautiful and serene. While crossing the quad he looked around, seeing only a handful of other students up at this hour on a Sunday. One he recognised as being a herbology major. It wasn't that curious to see them around campus at odd hours. Some herbs and plants were most potent in the morning, in the middle of the night or during a certain moon phase. Hence their need to be around at all hours of the day. Heading across the quad, he chose to sit at one of the tables set among a group of artfully arranged bonsai trees. They had been a gift from Hokkaido Magic University. While Francis didn't know anything about horticulture, he appreciated the amount of time and work that had been put into the raising of the sensitive trees. Sighing, he felt some of the tension leaving his body. Pulling his books and moleskin notebook from his bag, he decided to get some studying in. He wanted to get a head start on his arithmancy course. If he was chosen for the duelling program his coursework would increase and despite his father being a fan of duelling, he would not accept any dips in his performance or grades. He spent the next hour and a half working diligently, despite looking at his watch again and again. The sun rose higher and the slight morning chill quickly fled. More and more students walked over the campus and some professors were also up and about. Francis waved to some of them. He'd always had good relationships with his teachers. He often had a hard time connecting with people his own age. His interests were sometimes very different from what his peers were into. Clarence was one of the few people who actually understood him. Maybe because his interests were different too. He loved playing tabletop games and had a whole army of self-painted figurines on a shelf in their room. While Clarence did play chess, many of the others there were also into table top games and were constantly imagining new adventures for their figurines.

Sitting back and stretching a bit, he took another look at his watch. It was just about eight. His stomach grumbled and decided his next destination. He went to the small kiosk on the campus selling drinks and sandwiches, which was run by the student union. It offered students the opportunity to earn some extra money and it opened every day at eight. Smiling Francis stepped up to the counter and greeted the senior behind it. He liked the older student. He was always nice and didn't try to cheat people.

"I'll have a sandwich and a bottle of orange juice." He put a few dollars on the table to cover everything. Having a different currency only for the magical world didn't make any sense for the American wizarding society anymore. The integration between the two worlds too multifaceted by now that two different currencies would only make it harder for businesses operating in both worlds. The senior gave him his food, juice and change, along with a tired smile. Francis sat back down at his table, munching on the sandwich. Pulling out another book from his bag, he settled down to read. As the sun rose higher, Francis was surprised to discover that time suddenly had flown by. Many more students were now milling about and the administration building had to be open by now. Checking his watch, he noted that it was already half past nine. Quickly packing up, he jogged to the front door. Already others who had been at the try-outs were milling in front of the community board. Pushing slightly forward, he managed to read some of the names on the list. He wasn't surprised to see the Southies on it. Lorelei's name wasn't a surprise either. Breathing faster his eyes moved towards the end of the list. He almost fainted when he actually saw his name near the end of the list. Until that moment he'd simply played with the idea. Despite his positive attitude towards the try-out process, deep inside he'd not truly expected to be picked for the team. Frozen he stood in front of the board.

"I'm on the team." He whispered. Slowly a smile pulled his face into a gleaming expression. "I'm on the team!" He said again, louder. Others around him threw him puzzled glances. "I'm on the team!" He said again, looking around. It seemed as if someone else had to acknowledge it as well, to make it real.

"Seems so." Another student said and clapped him on the shoulder. Turning around, he pushed his way back through the growing throng of people. He had to find Clarence. He had to call his parents. He had to...check whether his courses would clash with the duelling program. He had assumed that they wouldn't but he wasn't sure. Turning around, he walked back into the administration building and into the registration office. The registry witches and wizards had their busiest days currently, since they had to prepare all the attendance lists and finalise the paperwork for all students currently enrolled at Salem University. He stepped up to the counter and waited patiently for one of the registrars to take notice of him. After some time, one of the witches came over.

"Hello. What can we do for you. If you want to change your courses I am sorry, but it is too late for that." She kindly advised.

"No. I already handed in my selected courses for this semester. However I was wondering whether you had more information on which courses are required for the duelling team and when those courses will be held. I made it onto the team and while my schedule isn't overly full, I still want to make sure it doesn't clash with any of my other classes." A bright smile was now on the middle-aged witch's face.

"Congratulations. Professors Granger, Malfoy and Zabini anticipated such requests and were kind enough to provide us with ready-made hand-outs for the team members." She reached under the counter and handed him a folder, stamped with the duelling team's crest. "Here you go. All you need to know about the program is in this folder. If you should note that there are irreconcilable conflicts in your schedule, please let us know what your choice will be. You will either have to drop out of a class, or drop out of the duelling program." Swallowing Francis nodded and took the folder.

"Thank you. I'll read it asap and will inform the registrar's office by this afternoon." Nodding she congratulated him again and then went back to work. A little numb he left the administration building and walked slowly back to his dorm, rifling through the documents in the folder. It contained a list of dates and times for the potions classes he would have to take with Professor Granger. Additionally there were time slots fitted into the mornings and evenings for physical training with Professor Zabini at least three times a week. Also three times a week, training sessions were scheduled with Professor Malfoy. This would indeed be tricky. He would have to seriously look at the classes he'd picked before. On another page was a list of books required for the program. He was a little surprised at this, since the former coach had never required them to read anything. When he opened the door to his dorm room, he read a paragraph that made him stop in the doorway.

 _All students picked for the duelling program are required to relocate to Duelling Hall. A room will be provided for them there. All members of the duelling team will have to acquire duelling team jerseys, t-shirts, track pants, shorts and appropriate duelling garb. All of these will be available at the bursary office. Note that proper running shoes (both for outside and inside) and sturdy boots are required as well. (Also available at the bursary)_

 _The books mentioned on page 6 are available at the library in limited quantities. Make sure that the reading material is available at the beginning of classes._

"Hey there, dreamer. In or out?" Clarence's voice shook Francis out of his stupor.

"I got in." He said, still shocked he'd actually made it. His hands were white-knuckled around the folder in his hands. For a moment they just stared at each other. Then Clarence jumped from his seat and pulled Francis into a tight hug.

"Congratulations man! I knew you could do it! Wow! Damn that today is Sunday. We should celebrate this!" His beaming smile slid slightly, as he noted that Francis wasn't jumping for joy as him. "What's the matter?" He asked. Sighing Francis sat on his bed, staring at the documents in his hands.

"I...I'll have to move. If I accept the nomination to be on the team." Clarence pulled his head back and frowned.

"If? What do you mean if? You stuck it out all those years with the brainless brigade without a real chance of getting on the team. Now you have one and all you're saying about this is if?" Putting the file down, Francis rubbed his face with his hands.

"It's not just duelling training like before. I'll have classes twice a week in potions with Professor Granger and three times a week physical training and duelling training with Professors Zabini and Malfoy. Along with all my other classes that will be a lot to deal with." Clarence sat down across from his friend, mulling all this information over.

"OK. I get it. It's a lot to deal with. But you're ahead in most of your classes anyway, right? And what it boils down to is a simple question." He met his friend's eyes. "How much do you want this?" Biting his lower lip, Francis stared at his hands. How much did he want this? Being a duellist had been a dream of his since he'd been a boy. He knew his wandwork needed improvement, but he knew strategy. And wasn't being at university about testing your limits? Finding out what you wanted to do with your life and trying out new things. Yes, keeping up with his regular classes and being a part of this duelling program would be hard, but he had studied hard before.

"Do you mind? That I'll have to move?" He asked softly. Clarence snorted and smiled.

"You kidding? No, I don't mind. I mean, I'll have a room to myself without having to be a senior or paying extra. Besides, I'll get to visit you at Duelling Hall. I've been wanting forever to go in there and have a look around. Helping you move will give me just that opportunity. I'll even throw in my prized Iron Man figurine to keep you motivated as he makes sure you keep on studying." Francis looked a little shocked.

"But you love that figurine. You spent weeks getting the colours just right. And the painting took you three days!" Nodding Clarence leaned back.

"Exactly. So you know how much it means to me. You can do this man. For both of us. We're nerds. At least you have a shot at being a cool nerd." Both chuckled at that and Francis relaxed. Smiling he looked from the paperwork to his friend.

"Thanks, man. It means a lot, you being this supportive." Rubbing his face and clearing his throat, Francis stood. "OK. I'll have to pack my stuff and then you can help me carry it over to Duelling Hall. Then I'll have to head over to the bursary office and get the rest of the required materials." At this Clarence frowned again.

"What other materials? You mean like team jackets and robes?" Francis nodded.

"Sort of. Apparently there's an entire wardrobe involved, including shoes. And I'll have to get the books mentioned on this list for Professor Granger's class." He showed Clarence the list from the folder. Raising his eyebrows, Clarence whistled low.

"Phew. Those aren't going to be cheap. _Magical plants and fungi – comparisons_ alone is going to be at least two hundred dollars. You think all this is in your budget?" Scratching his neck Francis nodded, while he estimated the needed funds in his head.

"It's going to be tight, but I think I can swing it without having to ask my parents for more money."

"Have you told them yet?" Clarence asked. Francis shook his head.

"Not yet. I came here first. I'll call them from Duelling Hall, after I get settled." Breathing deep, Francis nodded to himself. Now that he had made a decision, he felt much lighter. For better or worse, he would do his best at being a member of the duelling team.

 **Author's notes: As of tomorrow RL is back to bite me in the behind with work and other chores. I will do my best to update regularly, but there might be a day or two between chapters. Thanks again for all the support and your reviews. I hope you enjoy and more will be posted soon. Have a great time and I'll 'see' you around. ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Jamal was sitting at the dining table in Duelling Hall, a book propped up in front of his bowl of cereal. Keisha had already moved on to the living room, while Francesca was nibbling on her bagel across from him, reading in her own spell book. From time to time either of them would pick up their pen and scribble notes down. Emilio had headed out for a run, to clear his head after a long study session yesterday evening. James had only wolfed down breakfast and then retreated back to his room. The scent of fresh coffee had Jamal and Francesca look up from their studying. Professor Malfoy sat a fresh pot onto the table. His own cup already filled.

"How are you all doing?" He asked kindly. Jamal twirled his pen through his fingers.

"I guess I thought I was better prepared than I actually was." He admitted. Professor Malfoy deserved nothing but truth from him. Nodding his professor leaned his hip against the door jamb, while crossing his arms. For once, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbow. Jamal assumed that Malfoy's state of dress was due to it being early.

"Don't worry. We'll help you get there. As will your team mates. And besides, yours were not the worst tests we had to grade." He pointed out with a wink. At this both Jamal and Francesca sat up straight.

"Really?" She shyly asked. Malfoy nodded and took a sip. Jamal noted the faded tattoo on the professor's arm. Confused he frowned. It seemed so out of place. He'd never imagined his polished professor to have something as profane as a tattoo.

"Yes, really. It seems there were quite a few students in that room with you, whose families' donations or their names keep them here. You'll still need to study hard, but you won't be alone." He gave Francesca an encouraging smile, which she returned a little.

"Professor?" Jamal asked, not being able to tame his curiosity. "What does the tattoo on your arm mean?" An immediate change came over his benefactor. He put his cup down and roughly rolled down his sleeves, covering it up.

"Nothing. It means nothing." He mumbled and picked up his cup again. Francesca and Jamal shared a curious glance. This was definitely not nothing. It seemed to have rattled their normally unflappable professor. Confusion and worry had them shuffle in their seats. Sighing Malfoy looked down at the floor. Breathing deep, he met their eyes again.

"I am sorry. As you can see, it is a sore point. Suffice it to say it is part of my past. A past I regret. It has no bearing on what and who I am now. Try to relax a bit today. You have busy weeks ahead of you." With this he left them to their studying. Waiting a few moments, Francesca checked the stairs. She noted that the Professor was well on his way up and turning the corner towards the hallway leading to his office.

"That was definitely something! You think he was in a gang or something?" She asked in a whisper. Jamal frowned at this, not comfortable discussing his professor's private life or speculating about it.

"Don't think so. I mean, I haven't ever heard about gang stuff from the UK. Have you? And he's insanely rich. Doesn't sound like your typical gang banger." He pointed out. Nodding she supported her chin in her hand deep in thought.

"Yeah. Maybe one of those super secret fraternities, like in that movie." She speculated. Taking his bowl to the kitchen to clean, he shook his head.

"Look, he said it was something from his past and the way he reacted, he apparently regrets it. I don't think it would be fair for us to dig. We all have skeletons in our closets." Sighing she nodded.

"OK, you're right. It's just so weird. A tattoo seems so unlike Professor M." He nodded and picked up his study materials.

"Yeah, but it's none of our business. As long as he doesn't want to share, I say we respect his privacy." Leaving the dining room, he made his way through the foyer towards the common room to join Keisha. Halfway there, he stopped, since the main door opened and one of the students from the try-outs was standing in the door way. Unsure the young man came closer to Jamal.

"Ahm, hi. I am Jeremy Falstaff. I made it on to the duelling team and the information I was provided said I had to move here?" Nodding Jamal pointed at the stairs.

"Yeah. Just head up the stairs and take the hallway to the left. At the end you'll find Professor Malfoy's office. He'll give you the key to your room." He helpfully pointed out. Jeremy looked up, hefting the box on his hip higher. A bag hung from his shoulder, a backpack was on his back and a tote bag strap crossed his chest.

"Thanks. You're...Jamal, right?" Juggling his luggage around, he offered his hand. Jamal shook it, careful not to upset the precarious balance of all that Jeremy was carrying around.

"Yes, I am. Happy to help. I am sure that Professor Malfoy is already expecting the new team members, so his office door should be open." Thanking Jamal again, Jeremy laboriously made his way up the stairs. Jamal continued on his way to the common room. Keisha looked up at him.

"Who was that?" She asked distractedly. He sat down next to her on the couch, reopening his book.

"A new team member. I sent him towards Professor M's office." She looked to the arch leading into the foyer, trying to catch a glimpse of the new arrival.

"They already trickling in. Wow. Guess they were really eager to get those results. It's not even half past nine." Shrugging Jamal leafed a few pages back to check whether his thoughts on the topic discussed in the current chapter were correct.

"Guess so. Seems like this chance isn't just a big thing for us." Mulling this over, she shrugged in the end and continued her studies.

As time went by, more and more of the new team arrived. The Southies had sought strength in numbers and were clustered around the couch table, continuing with their studies. The new ones were eagerly exploring their new dorm and kept commenting how awesome and nice everything was. James became quickly irritated and left the group for his room to study in peace. He didn't like it when people talked just for the sake of saying something. What was so difficult about keeping your mouth shut until you actually had something to say? Walking down the hall he was by now intimately familiar with, he kept reading the text book open in his hand. A door opened and two laughing girls bumped into him. Sighing he looked down, judging whether he had to offer assistance. Both girls seemed alright though.

"I'm so sorry about that. I am Sabrina Maidwater. We duelled yesterday." One of the girls said and held out her hand. He shook it and nodded to her.

"James Hawk." He replied. Next to Sabrina the other girl was blushing bright red.

"So..sorry. I wasn't looking. I'm Eliana O'Leary." She offered her hand as well. He shook it too, noting that her fingers were much more calloused than those of her friend. Curious. She didn't seem like a blue collar girl. He nodded to both and continued on his way.

Behind him Sabrina looked after the tall boy. She was a bit confused at his behaviour. She didn't know whether he was being rude, or simply shy. Or if he just didn't care. Normally boys couldn't wait to talk to her. Definitely something to check on later. Eliana was still blushing brightly.

"That was weird." Sabrina murmured. Eliana tucked her dark curls behind her ear and nodded.

"Yes. He seemed so...cold." She murmured. Sabrina shrugged. She doubted that she would have to interact with that James person all that much. After all, there were a lot of other members in the duelling team and she was sure that she wouldn't be put on the freestyle team. She much preferred the clear structure and rules of traditional duelling.

"I guess so. Thank you so much for helping with the move. I would have asked Lorelei, but she was busy moving here herself." Eliana waved it off.

"Don't worry about it. Orientation and practice won't start before midday tomorrow at the conservatory." Eliana wasn't a student of Salem University, but a talented violinist at the Peabody Conservatory for Magical Music. She and Sabrina had been friends ever since they'd been children and in the same primary school. Both had been happy to discover that their current educational institutions were so close together. Both girls went down the hallway.

"Ugh! You're so lucky. I have to be in class early tomorrow morning for advanced magical theory. Professor Collins can be such a bore!" Sabrina sighed dramatically. Eliana shrugged.

"I would have loved to come here with you, but my parents decided that my music career was more important." Her voice was a little small at this. She'd often come to visit her friend here and she'd always wondered what it would have been like to actually attend. So much knowledge at your fingertips...but then her music was important to her as well. She loved playing the violin, but if it had been up to her, she probably wouldn't have made a career out of it. At times all the practice and the stress sucked all the joy playing her chosen instrument out of her. However since she had joined the orchestra, she had received instructions from Mr Nott. And he was a lot of fun. He even regularly invited them all to the bar he owned with his partner. Sabrina had been begging to take her, but the bar was a little different. In order for you to get in on the good nights, you had to prove you could play a musical instrument or were able to sing. Because if you could, those nights were reserved for musicians and spontaneous jamming and experimental music. That was one of the main reasons she still enjoyed music. Her instructor's enthusiasm was simply infectious. Looking at her watch, Eliana sighed.

"I have to run. We have a choir meeting in an hour." Sabrina hugged her friend in the foyer.

"OK. Let's get together some time next weekend. You still have to get me in to that club of yours." Groaning Eliana looked to the ceiling.

"I told you, musicians only. If you want to get in, you will have to learn an instrument or sing." Sabrina shuddered.

"Please spare me. I still have nightmares about those harp classes my parents made me go to and you've heard me sing." Eliana smiled.

"Only when you were drunk and that doesn't count. I'm sorry, but the rules are the rules. Mr Nott is a nice guy, but he won't bend the rules for anyone. Sorry." Sabrina waved it off and hugged her again.

"Have a nice first week and we'll talk later about getting together." Eliana nodded after returning the hug. On her way out, she noted Lorelei sitting on one of the couches in the common room. Waving to each other each turned back to their business. Eliana had to head back to the conservatory and Lorelei was busy acquainting herself with the other members of the duelling team, who had already settled in.

Lorelei had been surprised to see Eliana here. She knew the girl over Sabrina. Apparently some crazy talented violinist attending the conservatory. As far as she knew, Sabrina and Eliana had been friends forever. Seemed as if Sabrina had managed to talk someone else into helping her carry her stuff. Lorelei had wisely refused. It was astonishing what Sabrina managed to fit into her former dorm room and Lorelei had to take care of her own stuff. With a few charms all her stuff had fit into her brother's old quidditch bag and a cool old trunk she'd picked up on a flea market. She returned her attention to the others sitting around her. Some she knew from her various classes, but some she'd never even talked to before. Among them two of the Southies. There had been more of them, but as more new team members filtered in, more of the Southies had withdrawn. The remaining Southies were a black boy and the latino, Emilio, she'd fought before. She didn't care about their background. She believed on judging people on their own merits. She'd met enough rich dicks to know that stupidity and being a jerk wasn't a prerogative of those not as well off as her. The Southies were observing them with watchful eyes, their faces neutral. She had moved surreptitiously closer, now leaning on the arm of her couch.

"Hi. I am Lorelei Falidae. We duelled yesterday. Emilio, right?" The latino nodded and waited for her to say more. "That were some good tactics there. Sorry I couldn't give you more of a fight. My partner was rubbish." Warily he nodded at her.

"Thanks. The duel was OK. It wasn't exactly fair. I've known James since we were kids, so we know exactly how the other operates. This is my friend, Jamal." The black boy raised his hand in greeting, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I remember seeing you in the library once or twice." Lorelei remembered. Most of the students coming to university a few weeks early didn't spend nearly as much time in the library. And if they did, they weren't as concentrated as Jamal had been.

"Yeah. I wanted to get a head start on the semester." He mumbled. She nodded, having done something like that her second semester herself. By now she was confident enough in her knowledge and abilities, that she simply enjoyed the week she had for herself before classes began. For them it must be quite the culture shock.

"I get that. Did it myself a time or two. I had a hard time in applied arithmancy, so I decided to get a head start." Both boys seemed to relax a little. Over the next two hours, she managed to get them to open up a little and get a conversation started with them. She'd learned about their first few weeks on campus and their experiences while at Salem. Their personal lives however they kept close to their chests. She couldn't blame them. The way they'd been received, she would be reluctant to share anything personal as well. Sabrina had joined them early on and kept fluttering her eyelashes at Emilio. Lorelei only rolled her eyes at this. That woman would flirt with every male thing that moved. The boys informed her and the others about the kitchen and how it was stocked with drinks and snacks, so before long, they had gotten themselves some provisions and the Southies were once more deep into their studies. Jeremy had squeezed himself between Lorelei and Sabrina, flirting shamelessly with the latter. While Lorelei kept up her small part of the conversation with her couch buddies, she also kept watching the Southies.

"It's crazy that they can actually concentrate with all this commotion going on." She said low, so as not to alert the Southies. Jeremy looked up and then over to Jamal and Emilio. Shrugging, he leaned back into the sofa, positioning his arm as if by accident behind Sabrina.

"Where they come from this is probably nothing. I mean with car alarms going off all the time, gun shots and curses being fired, this is probably serene." Smiling he leaned towards Sabrina. Lorelei rolled her eyes.

"Can you be more of an ass, Jeremy?! Just because they come from South Salem and it has a bad reputation, doesn't mean they are constantly living in an action movie or something. Besides, you saw them at the try-outs. They had the place on the team and a scholarship to go along with it, yet the professors made them take all the same tests as us. At which they beat you, I might add." She pointed out. Jeremy rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. Sabrina was also wearing a dark expression.

"Yeah, Jer. It's not nice saying stuff like that. They earned their way. I doubt that they had any private tutors helping them get here. I know that I would have been lost without mine." Sighing and twirling her light brown hair, she shook her head.

Any further discussion on the subject was put on hold, due to Professor Malfoy standing in the middle of the foyer and calling for their attention.

"Welcome all!" He called out, holding up his hands. All students filtered into the foyer to better catch what he was saying. Apparently his voice had been audible even in the rooms upstairs, since those who had been there, came out onto the balcony.

"Welcome, students. All of you have been chosen for the Salem University duelling team. I trust all of you received the information package prepared by us at the registrar's office. Make sure you have all the needed materials before first class at eleven am with Professor Granger. Also make sure you have workout clothes at the ready, since Professor Zabini will most definitely pull you out of bed sometime this week to test your reflexes while tired. I speak from experience." A smattering of laughter ran through the crowd.

"A lot of work is in front of us, but by working together, you can all make it through the semester and meet the required standards in order for you not only to pass your classes, but to excel at them. Make no mistake. All of this will take hard work. Stick together. Help each other. As of this moment, you are a team. I expect you to help each other and to work together." For a moment, Malfoy took a look around, letting his message sink in.

"Good. Before I bore you all to tears, just one last announcement. To welcome you all, I have ordered food from a nearby restaurant and a buffet will be available in the dining room in half an hour. Eat, talk, get to know each other. As of tomorrow, we start working. Get a good night's sleep and I'll see you in the duelling gym." Waving, he left the room to enthusiastic applause. None of the students had expected food to be provided for them. Most had made plans to either head out for a bite, or to cook something. Or just raiding the fridges for sandwich ingredients.

"That's so awesome! We're getting an entire buffet." Francis grinned. Up until now, his move had been interesting and the duelling hall was just cool. The rooms, the interior and the crest inlaid in the foyer. He'd snapped a picture of it with his phone, sending it to Clarence. His friend had been gaping the entire time he'd been here to help him move. Keisha chuckled next to him. She had caught him and Clarence in the hallway, when they had lugged over his belongings. Clarence had been in love immediately. Keisha had shown him around, while Francis unpacked his stuff. The Iron Man figurine got pride of place on the book shelf over his desk, so that he could keep a watchful eye. When Clarence had seen this as he came back after the tour to say goodbye, he'd winked, smiled and nodded. Keisha had been confused. She'd sat down on Francis' bed and asked about it, so he had explained.

"He painted that himself?!" She'd asked impressed. He'd nodded and upon her invitation followed her to Francesca's room. There he'd sat with the girls, discussing classes and campus. After about an hour or two, the door opened after a perfunctory knock and James came in, nodded at them and sat down at the end of the bed. Francis looked to the girls for guidance, but they simply continued their discussion not acknowledging James' entrance. He took his cue from them and didn't address the other boy as well. He tended to ramble when nervous and being alone in a room with two pretty girls and another boy who could most likely break him in half made him nervous. The girls were kind to him though and thought his behaviour cute. In the middle of all this, James actually spoke. He asked a question about the properties of snake fangs on potions and before Francis could stop himself, he answered. Blushing he'd apologised after finishing his monologue, and the others staring at him didn't help much. After a moment, James had simply nodded, given a clap to his leg and after a mumbled thanks turned back to his studies, scribbling in his notebook. The girls however had been full of questions since then. How had he known all that? Was he a potions major? Was it hard to cram all this into your head? How much studying did he do? Shyly waving them off, he'd simply explained that he'd enjoyed potions in school before coming here and that he was a nerd. Francesca had bumped his shoulder with her own to cheer him up and asked him seriously whether he didn't know that nerds were running the world. This had relaxed him and their friendly discussion had continued.

First making new friends and then a buffet! This was awesome. Clarence would never believe him. Keisha waved it off though.

"I'd rather have another dinner prepared by Professor Granger than any buffet Professor M can order up. But I guess she's busy preparing for classes tomorrow." Francis gaped at this.

"Professor Granger cooked for you guys?" He asked. Keisha nodded and together they once more went towards her room.

"Sure. We had to help though, or no food. She's an awesome cook." Francesca nodded.

"It was relaxing too. We would all sit down at the dinner table and discuss classes, experiences on campus and sometimes the professors would tell stories from their days at university. Did you know that Professor Malfoy holds a degree in potions and arithmancy? I've also seen him blast through the ancient runes riddles in the Salem Sentinel. Apparently it's a contest between him and Professor Granger. She's crazy smart. When I grow up, I want to be her." At the last, Francesca gave a lopsided grin and winked. Keisha giggled, shoving her friend. Francis laughed with them. This was awesome! He was friends with two beautiful girls! Clarence would never believe this, when he told him tomorrow. After going over his schedule, he was happy to discover, that he was still able to attend advanced muggle studies and business integration with his friend. Both their fathers were managers in big wizarding firms and expected their sons to step into their shoes. Clarence and Francis had a few ideas of their own though. If taking a few business classes kept their old men off their backs, then so be it. Besides, Francis' older sister had a much better nose for business than him. He'd shared his plans with her and was confident in her support, since she'd wanted to take over her father's position ever since she turned twenty.

xXx

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon. The birds were just waking and their song the only sound in the quad of Salem University. They were slightly disturbed by the solitary man in running shorts, t-shirt and running shoes making his way over the campus, while whistling a jaunty tune. The birds were used to having the run of the place this early. He disturbed their methodical plundering of the various trash cans. Fortunately for the birds, the man wasn't interested in them. Throwing open the doors to one of the buildings, the man stopped in the middle of the hall, feet spread wide. Lifting his wand, he held it to his throat and cleared it. Grinning mischievously, he opened his mouth.

"Good morning sleepy-heads!" His sonorous enhanced voice blasted through every singly room, scaring students out of their beds. "Rise and shine! I want all of you dressed in workout gear and outside in fifteen minutes! Clock's ticking!" Lowering his wand, he turned around, snickering as he already heard the mad scramble upstairs. Students rushing from their rooms to the bathrooms to get basic hygiene taken care of and to get into their workout clothes. Waiting outside, he kept looking at his watch, tapping his foot. Bit by bit, students started appearing in various modes of dress. Some had their regular shoes on, most peoples' hair was in disarray and some had their t-shirts on inside out. As the last stragglers joined the group, the man stopped his watch. Turning it to the students, he walked slowly down the line.

"I said fifteen minutes. You needed twenty-three. That is not acceptable! This exercise will be repeated in irregular intervals. Duelling means you have to be fast. It means your body will have to act, before your mind catches up. Does anybody know what I am talking about?" A wavering arm was raised among the myopically blinking crowd.

"Muscle memory, Professor Zabini." A reedy, rough voice still filled with sleep said. Blaise nodded.

"Exactly. Muscle memory. Get lined up. We'll take a stroll around campus to get warmed up and then the real training starts. Anyone who lags behind gets to do an honour round. Now move!" Grumbling the duelling team members started out in a slow jog on their morning run.

"I thought he was the nice one." One of them mumbled, while trying to rub the last of sleep from his eyes. Others around him simply nodded.

And so began the training of the duelling team of Salem University. While the physical training was exhausting and none of the students ever knew when Professor Zabini would turn up to get them to training, sometimes in the middle of the night, the duelling training taught them all lessons in humility again and again. But Professor Granger's classes were the worst. By the second class, groups had formed to alternate in taking notes, since taking all the notes on your own would lead to hand cramps. Study groups formed almost immediately and while some had assumed that being part of the duelling team would afford them posh accommodations and parties galore were very quickly disillusioned of that. After the first month, ten people had dropped out. All of them had to pack their belongings and return to their regular dorms or apartments. No quarter was given, despite the dean receiving some complaints from disappointed parents. McPherson trusted the people he had hired though. Jagger and Platt were continously singing Professor Granger's praises and he'd snuck into the duelling gym once to watch Professor Malfoy practice with Professor Zabini. Yes, they were competent and the dean was convinced that Malfoy would deliver on his promise.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Hermione finished her latest class in advanced applied potions, thanking her students for their attention. Everyone knew by now to better pay attention in her class, or you were screwed. Only a handful of students left the auditorium excited and confident in their ability to retain everything Professor Granger had just slung at them. Peter Grimos watched the students filter out from his seat in the back row. The auditorium hadn't been full by any means. The requirements for taking the course were steep and just about fifty of the two-hundred applicants had been accepted. He was impressed that Professor Granger managed to give a course this complex next to teaching the duelling team as well. Rising, he made his way down the steps. Some of the female students greeted him with flirtatious smiles. He knew he was popular among the female students. Peter was tall, muscular, with wavy brown hair and blue-green eyes women had told him were soulful. And those eyes were firmly settled on the breathtaking woman he had met two weeks prior in the Professors' lounge. She was beautiful, talented and if he played his cards right, his date for tonight.

"Professor Granger." He greeted with a boyish smile. Her answering smile was welcoming. A good start.

"Coach Grimos. What brings you here? No quidditch wisdom or tricks to be found here." Opening her arms, she indicated the class room. Chuckling he leaned his hip to her desk, crossing his arms.

"I know. And please, call me Peter. I told you before." He winked. She blushed prettily.

"OK, Peter. What can I do for you?" Hermione had noticed Peter seeking her out the last couple of days. He was kind, funny and attractive. Not much of a conversationalist, but she guessed it had to do with them not knowing each other too well and their interests being different. The only reason she'd attended quidditch matches while at Hogwarts had been because of Harry and later Ron. Now that she was free of that, she did her best to ignore the sport actually existed. Her only interaction with it the occasional invitation to a game of Ginny's old team's matches, or a mention in the letters from Victor. He still played quidditch for fun, but had by now switched to coaching himself. Apparently he was no longer fast or limber enough to play the position as seeker. She had no idea, but trusted his judgment in the matter.

"Nothing really. I was just wondering if you had plans for tonight." He asked confidently. It was a trait she admired. Confidence. However she wasn't sure if she was ready to date. Because this most definitely was going to be one. She and Malfoy had still not resolved the whole almost-kiss incident from a few weeks ago. Instead he'd been a perfect gentleman, if a bit stand-offish. She simply had no idea what to make of it. And her patience was running out. Maybe taking Peter up on his invitation would be the impetus Malfoy needed to finally get a move on. Shyly raising her eyes to the handsome coach's, she felt ashamed at this thought. Peter was a nice man. He didn't deserve to be used in such a manner.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I'll have the time. I have classes and experiments to prepare." She deflected, while organising her notes. He wasn't so easily dismissed however.

"Oh come now. I am sure you have all those classes planned out until the end of the semester. And what do you Professors have those teaching assistants for?" He winked and she felt herself waver. How long was she prepared to put her life on hold? Either for Malfoy or because of the hurt and loss of trust Ron had caused. Here was an attractive man, who was going out of his way to get her to go out with him. Was she ready? If Malfoy had asked her, her answer would have been yes, so...hell, she was a Gryffindor. Why not take a risk? Wasn't the whole point of coming here to get a fresh start? And Peter seemed to be a fun guy. She liked new experiences and since she currently couldn't find more than one thing they had in common, teaching at Salem, this would all be new.

"Very well. What did you have in mind?" His beaming grin only improved on his rougeish good looks.

"That's the spirit. I would suggest dinner and then maybe a stroll along the beach? If you think it's too cold, we could always go on a Hocus Pocus tour." Winking at her, he chuckled. Grinning herself, Hermione stepped a little closer.

"What is a Hocus Pocus tour?" He waved one of his hands.

"It's a muggle tour through Salem about the 'witches' that were supposed to have lived here. I've been with friends. It's a fun time out. Especially if you actually can do magic. What some of those women were supposed to have done! I mean, cursing cows to be born with two heads? Who does that?!" Both of them were laughing now and Hermione touched him lightly on the arm.

"Stop it. Those poor women were tortured to death." She tried to admonish through her giggles.

"What? Is it my fault that those puritans had no imagination? And really, causing milk to curdle?! You don't need magic for that. Time will do it for you." Smiling he watched her face light up with laughter. Thank god he'd made his move now. Anton and Keith had been busy planning and then trying to outshine the other with their plans of taking Granger out. He instead had made a move and it seemed to be paying off. When she caught herself, she looked up at him and he could get lost in those brown eyes. Tiny amber flecks in them, made them seem almost golden.

"The Hocus Pocus tour sounds like a good idea for another time. Dinner is fine. I fear I am a little knackered after a week of teaching. I wouldn't show it the appreciation it deserves." Almost a little shocked, he stood straighter. Not only was she coming to dinner with him tonight, but she'd hinted at being open to another date. Score for Grimos! Grinning he nodded.

"Whatever the fair lady wants." With a bow he left her to straighten up her notes and put away the experiment she'd done for the students. Taking two steps at a time on the stairs, he felt light and almost floaty on his way out. Right outside, he ran into another one of the new professors. The weird, pale one. And this time, there was no jovial glint in his eye or anything of the sort. Before, they at least would exchange opinions on American versus British quidditch practices. But not now. The corridor seemed to be darker than Peter expected. Uncomfortably he looked around. No one was nearby.

"Can I help you, Professor Malfoy?" He asked and was surprised to discover his voice hitching. Swallowing he tried to keep eye contact, but while he only thought Malfoy's eyes to be light blue before, now they seemed quicksilver and they promised dark and deadly things. Slowly Malfoy shook his head, his eyes never moving from Peter's.

"OK." Peter said nervously, squeezed past the other man and walked a lot faster than usual. At the end of the corridor, he turned around and almost gave a squeal, when he saw that Malfoy was still watching him with that unnerving stare. What the hell was that man's problem?

xXx

Draco tried to breathe deep. He couldn't loose it. This was the logical consequence of his decision. Blaise had warned him. Again and again his best friend had pushed him to make a move, or at least talk to Granger, but every time he thought he'd built up enough courage, she would look at him with those spellbinding eyes and his head was empty and his tongue tied into knots. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose and let it slowly slip from his lips. It calmed him a little. What Grimos didn't know was that Draco had arrived shortly after class had let out. Some of the students had stopped him to talk. He often came by Granger's class room to discuss their team and her other students knew him well. Seeing her laughing at the man's jokes, her face so radiant with joy and that innocent touch on Grimos' arm. Everything dark and jealous in Draco had roared to life. Only by closing the door and clenching his eyes, had he been able to fight back the impulse to go in there and punish Grimos for trying to take away from Draco what was his.

And therein lay the crux of the matter. Hermione wasn't his. Sure, he could court her, but she wasn't a thing to be possessed. He knew from his mother that he'd apparently inherited his jealous streak from his father. Draco wouldn't know. He refused to speak to the old bastard. He'd ruined his life enough, thank you very much. Hearing the door behind him open, he quickly straightened his posture and pulled the calm mask over his face he had perfected over the years.

"Malfoy. What brings you here?" Hermione asked with a smile. It always blew him away that she actually smiled when seeing him and that his name fell with kindness from her lips instead of mistrust and disdain. Lifting a folder, he turned to her fully.

"Work, I am sorry to say. I wanted your opinion on our team's progress, so that I can update our charts. We also need to get together to finalise the roles of the team members. Duellist, support and second." Sighing and looking at her delicate wristwatch, Hermione seemed a bit harried. As with all things she did, she gave one hundred percent. This included teaching. While she gave no quarter in tests or during class, she wanted all of her students to suceed.

"Now?" She asked tiredly. A part of Draco wanted to say yes. So as to keep her from going to dinner with Grimos, but again he chose to not let his baser instincts guide him.

"Of course not. Take my notes and we can get together say...Saturday." Smiling she took the folder.

"Thanks, Malfoy. I appreciate it." Magnanimously he waved her off.

"Think nothing of it." In reality he needed those decisions made before the weekend, but he'd simply work through Sunday to make it all fit and to accommodate her.

"So Saturday in your office? What time?" Smiling he shook his head.

"Saturday's are sacrosanct to Blaise. Trying to get him into my office, even with the promise of food and firewhiskey would be a hard sell. No. I am proposing brunch at my flat. Don't worry, I have been practising and I won't set my kitchen on fire." His inner Slytherin was purring. Excellent plan! By inviting her over for brunch, he made sure that she wouldn't stay out too long with that Grimos wanker. Her work ethic also made sure she would return home at a more than reasonable time to be rested and ready for their meeting. Laughing she bumped his arm and together they headed outside.

"I'll have to head over early. A Malfoy cooking by himself. This I cannot miss." Looking over to the side, he hid the smug smile now on his face. Score for Slytherin. Eat it, Grimos.

xXx

Whistling an old melody, Malfoy walked into the duelling gym. His team was there, sweating profusely under the harsh eyes of their taskmaster, Blaise Zabini. Each student was weighed down by a plate on their chest while doing sit ups. Each weight calculated to them.

"Fourteen more, then you can have the weekend off!" Blaise called and while none of the students had any air left with which to cheer, you could feel the mood in the room changing drastically.

Chuckling Blaise turned to Draco.

"They are busy and will run out of here as fast as they are still able when they are done. What did you need? I gave you my recommendations yesterday." Narrowing his eyes, he turned back to the team.

"Mark! Jeremy! I saw that! Twenty more for all because you two idiots decided to cheat!" The boys in question received death glares from all around. Draco waited patiently for Blaise's attention to be back on him.

"Your prediction came true. Grimos asked Granger out." He said in a low voice, so that the wheezing kids wouldn't hear. Blaise's only reaction were his slightly raised eyebrows.

"Shit. Where did you leave his body and did you make a mess?" He asked out of the corner of his mouth. Draco gave him a dark glare.

"Very funny." He grumbled. Blaise shook his head a little.

"Are you kidding me? You almost too my head off for hugging her a second too long. So tell me, oh master of your emotions, why is there no blood on your clothes and do I need to find a spot in my back yard to bury a body. Though Jane said when disposing of a body, it's much better to do it in pieces." A little disgusted, Draco studied his friend.

"Why are you and this Jane discussing how to get rid of bodies? And who is Jane?" Smiling brightly and seeming almost giddy, Blaise turned to him.

"Jane O'Brian. Mate, she's fantastic. A great gal all around. She teaches advanced muggle studies. We've been out a ton of times. I must have mentioned her." Draco tried to remember.

"You usually just describe the crazy sex shit you do and I tune out. If Jane's name came up, I didn't listen. Sorry." Huffing, Blaise crossed his arms.

"You're just jealous cause you're not getting any. Anyway. Jane has a tele vision at home. While we were catching our breath, she suggested we watch a deeveedee. It's this round, shiny thing. It was really neat. Apparently entire plays are on those things and you can watch them any time you want. In any case, we watched a show called 'Bones' and it was about this woman solving crimes through what Jane explained to me were muggle sciences. It was impressive. That's how I learned when you want to get rid of a body, chop it into little, tiny pieces and scatter them. That way no one is any wiser and nature will do all the cleaning up for you." Nodding, Blaise smiled at his explanation. Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Your disturbing in depth interest into the disposal of bodies aside, I already put a plan in motion to cut that so-called date short." Frowning Blaise threw him a suspicious look.

"You aren't going to crash their date, are you? Because that is just tacky and Granger would never forgive you. She'd also never buy that you were 'just in the neighbourhood." Snorting Draco shook his head.

"What do you take me for? Honestly, I feel a little offended that you think so little of me." He sniffed theatrically. Ignoring his miffed friend, Blaise turned to his pupils. Those who were done were still lying on the floor, breathing heavily. The last few were finishing their extra sit-ups just now. Blowing his whistle hard, Blaise nodded to them.

"Well done. Hit the showers. I promise you have the weekend off, so enjoy." By now enough of them had gotten their wind back that a few whoops were heard in celebration. Friends were helping each other get up and each of them picked up their weight to replace it in their locker. The lockers had been an addition Zabini had insisted upon. Certain weights had to be calibrated to each student and it was simply easier for each to have their own weights and for them to be able to keep them in a locker of their own. Most of those lockers already had other items in them as well. Medical tape, water bottles, energy bars, you name it. Waving to their professors on the way out, the duelling team members left in clusters of friends, eagerly discussing what they wanted to do over their first free weekend of the term.

"I'm going to sleep in tomorrow!"

"I'll order a pizza. With double extra cheese...and none of you can have a piece!"

"I'm doing nothing. I won't even change out of my pajamas..."

Hearing those 'plans', both Draco and Blaise had to chuckle. Before Draco could enlighten Blaise what his plans were, Zabini raised his hand for him to wait and approached one of the students limping behind the others and being helped along by Francesca.

"Well done today, Francis. Get that leg looked at by the campus nurse and if it still hurts tomorrow, I want you to go see a healer, OK?" Wincing a bit, but beaming with pride, the sweaty youth nodded.

"Yes, Professor Zabini." Winking at Francesca, he soundlessly told her to keep an eye on him. She winked back and nodded. Francis wasn't the strongest nor the fastest. Blaise knew that no matter how hard the boy trained, he would never make a more than mediocre duellist, but dear Merlin did that kid know strategy. He also had a memory like a steel trap. A trait that could carry him very far in duelling. He also had a lot of determination and Blaise could always respect that. While he struggled in the physical and duelling training, he blew almost everyone out of the water when it came to duelling strategems and Granger's applied potions class. He was also one of the few among the team, who had made a concerted effort to become friends with all the Southies. Including James. Who had actually once commented, that Francis was an OK dude. This coming from James was like Granger when she got into her lecturing mode about something she felt passionate about.

"So what is your amazing plan that will dazzle me and cut Granger's date short?" He asked, after the last student had left. Draco trailed him, as he went around the gym, righting the few things the students had left lying around in their rush to the doors.

"I brought her the folder for her assessment and input. That's when I saw Grimos invite her out. I waited until he left and then I presented her with the folder. She seemed a little tired and then, genius struck." He preened a bit, while Blaise rolled his eyes. "I offered her brunch tomorrow at my place. So that we can discuss placements. That means you have to be there as well." At this, Blaise turned around and put his arms akimbo.

"What?! I had my own plans, you know?! And how is this supposed to cut the date short?" Draco raised his hands in a placating manner.

"I told her I would cook the brunch myself." Blaise's eyes got wide.

"Merlin's pants! Not again. The last time you cooked, you almost burned the house down. My shirt still smells of greasy smoke and I am expecting a new one from you." Draco waved that off.

"Don't be such a sissy. I practiced and since Granger assumes the same level of competence from me as you do in a kitchen setting, she wants to come by early to supervise. Since we both know that she'll want to be well rested for this..." He left the sentence hanging and watched smugly as his friend's face went slack in dumbfounded admiration.

"Sweet Salazar. That **is** pure genius! She'll cut the date short to get a good night's rest. And it's all her own idea! Oh, I salute you, sir. Well, well played." Smirking Draco dusted off his shirt.

"Thank you. I do try."

"Hold it, though. If I have to come, then Jane comes too." Frowning Draco looked up at his friend.

"What? Why? I don't even know her!" He tried to protest. Blaise was having none of that though.

"Tough titties. I do not care. I already had plans with her. I won't give up spending the weekend with her, just because you can't find the stones to actually ask Granger out. Besides, Jane has been wanting to meet you." As the gym was now in order, both men left to head off campus.

"Why would she want to meet me? I thought she was one of your...what do you call them again?"

"Fuck-buddies and no, she isn't just that. She's actually fun to talk to and isn't the clingy sort, so you might as well get used to her. She wants to know more about me and that includes getting introduced to my best friend." Lifting an eyebrow, Draco took his best friend in.

"You do know that you are describing an actual relationship? Not just calling each other and meeting up for sex after dinner?" Sighing deeply, Blaise looked to the sky.

"Of course I know. How shallow do you think I am. I can have a meaningful relationship with a woman and still have fun with her at the same time."

"Fine. Bring your friend. Just tell her that we will be working, so she will have to bring something to occupy her time."

 **Author's notes: Inspiration struck and work was slow, so I actually had time to write something more. ;) Hope you enjoy.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Francis hobbled to his room, trying to keep his weight off his left leg. He must have twisted his ankle during the run, before the pull-ups, weight training and the ten thousand other torturous things Professor Zabini could come up with. Though he might at times fight to get out of bed due to his muscles being so sore, he could not deny the effect all the training had had on him. His pants were getting a bit wide, while his shirts started to strain across his shoulders and his biceps. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel selfconscious when not wearing a shirt. Which was why he felt comfortable walking down the hall with only his pajama pants on. He had taken a shower in the communal bathroom and felt clean, but tired. He met a few of his fellow team members in the hall, who were just like him in their most comfortable clothes. Many of them were planning on simply lounging around and tackle any chores they had tomorrow. Francis would have liked to take a nap too, but he'd promised to see the nurse and Francesca had given him a stern talking to, when he'd said he'd simply rest his foot and wait it out. Entering his room, he hung up his towel and pulled an old pair of jeans and a shirt from his cupboard. Dressing carefully, he was surprised to hear a knock on his door.

"Come in!" He called. Wincing a bit while pulling his socks on, he glanced up to his door. In the doorway, James stood, looking down at him. Swallowing, Francis attempted a smile. He still felt a little uncomfotable around the tall, silent Southie, despite knowing that James apparently liked him.

"Yes?" He asked in a small voice. James' impassive face didn't change much. It hardly ever did.

"Francesca said you twisted your ankle. She asked me to make sure you made it to the nurse." Francis swallowed. He'd actually wanted to go straight to Clarence's and simply tell the girls he'd been to the nurse. Apparently Francesca had expected that.

"That's really not necessary." He tried. James shook his head.

"I'm taking you. The girls are worried. If it should be worse, I can carry you." Swallowing heavily again, Francis nodded and tried again for a smile. Shit, that would be embarassing. James could carry him around without a problem. The guy was built like a tank, but Francis' reputation would never recover. And he was just getting the attention from the opposite sex he had wanted for a long time.

"OK. Just let me get my shoes on and then we can go." Nodding, James stepped back out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Sighing deeply, closing his eyes and burying his face in his hands, Francis tried to calm down. This was good, wasn't it? Francesca was worried about him. So worried that she actually asked the silent giant to help him along.

Clarence was tidiying his room and waiting eagerly for Francis to get here. Apparently the duelling team had the weekend off, so they had the entire weekend to work on their project. It was what they were truly passionate about and what they wanted to do after finishing their studies. The project had to be fully fleshed out by then, so that they could present it for further funding. A knock on his door, had him look up from his desk, where he'd already laid out their materials.

"Come in!" He called out. The door opened and Clarence's greeting got stuck in his throat. Francis hadn't come alone. That Hawk guy was with him. With wide eyes, Clarence looked from one to the other. "Hello?" He asked, unsure. Francis waved.

"Hi Clarence. I twisted my ankle during training. It's nothing bad and the nurse put a stabilising spell on it and told me to stay off my foot as much as possible over the weekend. James was kind enough to make sure I made it to the nurse's office and when I told him I was meeting you, he wanted to tag along. Is that OK?" Francis winced a little and it seemed not because of his foot. Clarence believed he knew why. Their project was a little secret of theirs. Both hadn't felt entirely comfortable sharing it with anyone before it was finished. Swallowing Clarence nodded.

"Sure. Hi James." He waved with a limp hand. With the three of them in his room, it seemed to shrink. Especially since James was so tall.

"Hi Clarence." James grumbled and took a seat on the window seat, after Francis had hobbled over to the other desk chair. The way James had watched Francis, had Clarence believe that James wasn't here because he was interested in the project though. It seemed as if he was watching out for Francis. Curious. Shaking his head, he opened the large A3 folder on his desk, pulling the first sheaf of high quality paper from the stack it contained. Shuffling his chair a bit, he moved closer to Francis, who'd also moved closer and together they hunched over the paper, trying with their slight builds to hide as much as possible from James.

"So I got the outline finished and I think these frames came out pretty good. I got some more indian ink for the lettering, so if you can finish this page, while I work on the next, we could get the first edition finished by end of this month!" Clarence whispered excitedly. Francis licked his lips and nodded eagerly. While he'd taken most of his things with him to duelling hall, his desk still held an array of brushes and quills. Opening an ink well with dark black ink, Francis carefully dipped a brush into and steadied his writing hand, by firmly putting his pinky on the desk. With slow, measured stroked, he started working on his page, while Clarence opened an entire box of ink wells. James raised an eyebrow. Despite him not being a curious or nosy sort, he still wondered what those two were up to. In the end, he decided to take a peek. It wasn't that hard. He only had to stretch his neck a bit from where he was sitting. What he saw amazed him and had him raise his eyebrows.

"Wow." He muttered. Both Clarence and Francis looked up, their faces looking as if they'd been caught doing something naughty. For a moment none of them moved and James realised that he would have to say more. "That looks great." He finally said. Clarence and Francis still didn't relax. Swallowing they looked at each other.

"You really think so?" Clarence finally asked. James nodded seriously. He knew what it felt like to show something you'd been working on for a long time to another and waiting for their verdict.

"Yeah. I never say anything I don't mean. Lying wastes time." Francis' mouth twitched. Clarence grinned now as well.

"Would you...would you like to see the rest?" He asked hesitantly. James nodded, feeling honoured.

"Sure." Extracting the remaining, apparently finished pages from the folder, he handed them over to James. Nodding to them, the Southie settled back into his seat, looking over the pages he'd been handed. For a while, Clarence and Francis watched him nervously for reactions, but none were forthcoming. The other boy's face as always impassive. Sighing they got back to work.

After half an hour, Francis took a break. While his work wasn't as time consuming as Clarence's, any mistake he made could ruin an entire week's work, so he concentrated hard and the tension in his hand made it necessary to take a break in regular intervals. Opening the fridge, he took a bottle of water and put one for Clarence out as well. His friend was in his own world currently. Pencils, quills and brushes were scattered over his desk and different colours of ink were already staining his fingers. Looking over to James, Francis wanted to offer him something as well. James was staring at him though and it made Francis uncomfortable.

"You want something to drink?" He asked in a small voice. Lifting the pages, James leaned forward.

"This is good." He said, putting them carefully on the bed next to him. Francis' heart beat a mile a minute.

"You think so?" James nodded.

"Yeah. The characters are interesting and the story is good." Francis beamed at this praise.

"Thanks. It means a lot coming from you. But...you can't tell anyone, OK? We're still working on this and we want to finish it, before showing it to others." James nodded.

"Sure. I won't say a thing." He said and Francis knew he wouldn't. James wasn't a talker by any stretch of the imagination. Nodding, Fracncis shook out his hand and got back to work. James didn't mind. He liked peace and quiet.

Hermione was pacing through her living room, waiting for Ginny to pick up. As soon as she got home, she had changed into comfortable clothes and dialled her best friend over the landline. She could have floo'ed, but the children still might have been up and seeing their auntie would just be the excuse they needed to badger their mother into staying up longer. With a click, the other end was finally picked up.

"James! Put that down and leave your little brother alone! If I have to come over there it won't be pretty, young man!" Ginny's stern 'mother voice' was heard. Grinning Hermione relaxed a bit and settled on her sofa. "Hello?" The young mother seemed a little harried.

"Hello Mrs Potter. Are the kids misbehaving?" She chuckled. A loud squeal had her remove the phone from her ear.

"Harry! Get over here and take care of your sons! Yes, right now. No, it can't wait until the commercial break." A door closed with a clap. "Honestly. Sometimes I think I should just hop back on my broom and tour with the Harpies again." She sighed.

"You wouldn't. After half a day, you'd miss the whole craziness." Both women laughed.

"You know me too well. It's so good to hear from you! Thanks for the letters and the postcard. The boys loved it. We're looking into when we can actually make it over there for a visit." Hermione smiled fondly.

"Sounds wonderful. Just tell me when and I'll figure out some things for us to do. Apparently Theo Nott has a bar or club here and Blaise keeps raving about how much fun it is. Definitely worth a stop."

"So it's Blaise now, hm?" Ginny snickered. Hermione scoffed and leaned back, kicking off her high-heels.

"Yes, Ginny. I call him Blaise and no, I have no intention of letting him charm me into anything else. We both know his reputation." Ginny scoffed.

"So? You need a little bit of fun. He's there, he's available and he won't get attached. How long has it been anyways? After Ron you only had a handful of dates and some of them were promising." Hermione sighed, slumping in her seat.

"God, Gin! I don't even know anymore. And most of those dates were idiots thinking they could get their five minutes of fame by being seen with me. None among them who were worth the extra hassle. But I have kind of a date tonight." Again Ginny squealed, forcing Hermione again to remove the phone from her auditory vicinity. Laughing she cautiously moved it back. "I guess you are excited."

"Are you kidding?! Of course I am excited! Who is he? What does he do? What does he look like? Is he cute? I bet he is." Both women broke down in giggles. Rising and moving to her kitchen, Hermione poured herself a glass of red wine.

"His name is Peter Grimos, he is the quidditch coach at Salem University, he is six foot one, wavy brown hair, blue-green eyes and he is very cute. He asked me to dinner tonight." Ginny purred.

"Quidditch coach, hm? Bet he's in good shape then. So why are you calling me then? Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Hermione sighed.

"I'm not sure, Ginny. I mean, yes, Peter is handsome and charming, but..." Ginny grumbled.

"I could strangle my good for nothing brother! Listen Hermione, just because Ron was an arse, doesn't mean every other man is like him." Getting up and pacing, Hermione ruffled her hair.

"I know. And being here assures that the date will not end up in the papers the next morning. There's something else though." Nervously she nibbled on her thumb. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she decided to take the plunge and tell her best female friend about something she'd kept secret from all her friends and family. "I almost kissed Draco Malfoy a few weeks ago." Silence greeted her confession.

"Ginny? Are you still there?" She looked on the display of her phone to check, whether the connection had been lost.

"You almost kissed Malfoy." Came Ginny's toneless voice. Tense Hermione only made an affirming humming noise. "Hermione Granger you minx! First Blaise, then quidditch Peter and now Malfoy! Moving to the States surely quick-started your dating life." Ginny's voice descended into giggles. Hermione couldn't help herself and started giggling as well.

"You're horrible, Ginny. You make me sound like a man-eater!" Hermione's comment had Ginny burst into another round of laughter.

"So? If someone deserves a little fun, it's you." Clearing her throat, Ginny got serious again. "So you're not sure about going out with quidditch Peter, because there is something going on with Malfoy." She summed up. Groaning Hermione flopped back down on her sofa.

"That's the problem, Ginny. I have no idea whether there is something going on with Malfoy. Yes, we almost kissed, but since then he's been distant and hasn't made any comment or asked me out. Ever since he's been strictly business. And it is frustrating! We were...kind of flirting." Ginny's guffaw interrupted her.

"How can you kind of flirt?!" She asked confused. Hermione took a sip of her wine.

"Come now, Ginny. You know our history. If he'd come up to me and started to flirt like Blaise, I would have hexed him at worst and mistrusted his every intention at best. It's just...we would argue, but without any heat or malice. And...sweet Merlin, Ginny, I enjoyed it. He's smart and witty and ugh..." She shivered in delight. "You should see him now. I'll send you a picture. Tall, muscular, always properly dressed. Even when he dresses down I could eat him up."

"Now you definitely have to send a picture. Phew. I am fanning myself here in case you are wondering. Could you possibly make it a picture without his shirt on?" Laughing Hermione covered her eyes.

"Gin! You are a married woman!" She pointed out in a mock scandalised voice.

"So? Doesn't mean I'm dead. Besides it might give Harry a little incentive to get back to the gym. Ever since he's been promoted, he's let himself go a little. I love him and his little belly is cute, but a little jealousy might fire him up, if you know what I mean." Blushing Hermione closed her eyes.

"Ginny that is way too much information. I **never** want to think about you and Harry in that manner, ok?!" An evil cackle was her only answer. Shaking her head, she again sipped on her wine and waited, letting Ginny have her James-Bond-villain moment.

"It's only fun with you, 'Mione. Luna just offers advice. I've been told more than I ever wanted to know about her and Rolf's sex life." Both women were laughing again.

"Did she ask you about tantric sex? Apparently, since I am muggleborn, I know all about it." Hermione managed to get out between laughs. Ginny was by now snort laughing. After a few minutes, they both got their breathing back under control.

"Enough deflection though, Ms Granger. By the sound of it, not only Malfoy is interested." Sighing Hermione smoothed out a crease in her pants.

"Yes. And that is exactly my problem. If he'd asked me today, there would have been no hesitation whatsoever, but he never asked. Coach Grimos did. After a bit of nudging, since I didn't think it would be fair to him. He is attractive, but I fear we have nothing in common. Every time he's talked to me, he's either been talking about the university or quidditch. The university topic is about finished, since I'm not interested in gossip concerning the other professors and you know my stance on quidditch." Ginny snorted.

"Boy do I ever. Judging from your eyerolls every time Harry and I would start discussing a game we'd heard about on the wireless, not much. How well do you know him though? Maybe he has tons of interests unrelated to quidditch. Since Malfoy hasn't made a move, I say go out with him, see how the evening goes. It's not as if you're marrying the man. It's only dinner after all." Breathing deep, Hermione nodded.

"You're right, Gin. I don't know why I'm obsessing this much!" She took the last sip of her wine, almost spitting it across her couch table, when she heard Ginny snort.

"Really? You don't? Because I have had such discussions before. When I was fifteen. With other girls my own age. What were you doing when you were fifteen and sixteen, Hermione? That's right. Making sure my husband and idiot brother didn't die. I thought you'd talked about this with your therapist?" She seemed a little surprised. Ginny had been reluctant to see a muggle therapist, when she'd returned to Hogwarts with Hermione, but upon her friend's urgings, she'd gone too. While Hermione had been pouring her heart out to Jane, Ginny had gone to see an elderly man, who could without a problem stand in for Father Christmas. She had been so positively surprised by her sessions with Thomas, that she had badgered Harry into seeing a therapist himself. Something Hermione hadn't managed to do.

"Well...I realised I'd missed some things a normal teenager did, but...I never considered...at the time I was in love with Ron." Hermione pointed out. Ginny tsked and Hermione could see her shaking her head.

"You were infatuated with my brother, Hermione. You had a crush on him and he was too stupid to realise it. You never thought two different guys were cute and were agonising over which one you would date. You had far more important things on your mind."

"And no two guys interested in me to actually have to agonise over anything." Hermione replied a little snarkily. Ginny only snorted.

"Just because you didn't look up from your books enough." She pointed out. "There were quite a few boys who wanted to ask you out, but you could be a bit intimidating. And then there were Harry and Ron constantly with you. Made it kind of hard to approach you. Enough wallowing. You are a beautiful woman and a gorgeous guy is on his way to pick you up for a date. So get up off your arse and make yourself presentable. Give it a go and if it's not to be, then you can always ask Malfoy out." Raising an eyebrow, Hermione stared at her TV.

"Right. You are right. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Have a good time and call me tomorrow and tell me how it went."

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione mock saluted. With a few more words exchanged in good bye, they hung up. Slapping her thighs after putting down the phone, Hermione got up. She needed to shower and change. Despite her having mixed feelings about the date with Peter, he deserved a fair chance.

 **Author's note: Thanks for reading. Please read and review as I would like your input on how things are going to far. I'll hope to have another chapter ready soon. Have a good one!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Draco was obsessing over the arrangement of flowers on his dining table. He'd pestered the woman at the flower shop about the arrangement and he still wasn't completely satisified. He'd gone for the more unusual selection. Roses were overdone most of the time and it was hardly appropriate at this stage. Instead he had chosen cheerful and bright wildflowers. They lightened up his dining room. Most of his furniture had been chosen by an interior decorator and Draco had mostly just waved his choices through. The flat gave off a sophisiticated, old world vibe, while there were still modern splashes around, like his glass and steel couch table. He would have preferred a wooden one, but his decorator had said it would make the room too dark. The one thing he'd insisted upon was his leather wingback chair. One of the few things he'd brought with him from the Manor. The cherry hardwood floors, Persian rugs, leather sofa and oak shelves had all been the idea of the designer. Draco had also chuckled, when the man had had the audacity to instruct him only to stock the shelves with bound books. Preferably old and expensive looking ones. He may have been a pretentious git, but Draco could not deny that he'd done a good job. The penthouse suite felt like the home he'd lost as soon as Voldemort set foot through the Manor's doors.

Finishing with the flowers, he went back into his gleaming kitchen. He'd rarely used it in all the years he'd lived in the States, but ever since he'd seen Hermione cook for the first time, he'd made an effort to learn. Well hidden in the darkest corners of his study were books such as _Cooking for beginners_ and _The stove is your friend_. The first one was a muggle one, while the second was a wizarding one. Up until now, the muggle one had helped more than the other. And he was most certainly convinced that the damn stove wasn't his friend. It seemed to go out of its way to burn him every chance it got. And not only his own! He suspected a dastardly conspiracy, since both the stove at Duelling Hall and Blaise's had burned him as well. They were out to get him. Approaching the kitchen appliance with care, he looked to the kitchen island. In preparation he'd laid out the ingredients he would need. Eggs, flour, milk, butter, various vegetables and fruit for a bit of nibbling and the pancakes. The bread and buns he'd bought at a bakery. He knew that muggles sold frozen ones for you to heat, but he wouldn't try his luck with the oven today. All too often that damn thing nearly set things on fire! Swishing his wand, light classical music filled the kitchen while he rolled up his sleeves after stowing the wand. Taking a deep breath he pulled over a bowl and began mixing the ingredients for pancakes. He'd just poured his first bit of batter into the pan, when his doorbell rang. Raising his eyebrows, he looked to his watch perched on the edge of the island. It was barely half past nine. He'd wanted to start early, since his first batches often turned out more burnt or crunchy than edible. Wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, he made his way through his living room to the door. Probably Blaise. His friend missed no opportunity to make fun of him. And Draco's attempts at cooking to impress Hermione were absolutely hilarious according to Zabini. Opening the door, already a sharp quip on his tongue, Draco swallowed it quickly. Hermione stood there, a small bag in her hands.

"Hello Draco." She said and smiled. Confused he looked behind her and then to his bare wrist.

"Hello Hermione. Is my watch broken? I thought we agreed on eleven." Nodding she nervously adjusted her lapels.

"Yes, well, I woke up early and thought I would come over and help." Blinking, he found his manners somwhere and invited her in.

"Please, do come in. Would you like coffee or tea?" Smiling she moved past him and set down her bag on the armoire in his entranceway. Like the proper gentleman he was, he helped her out of her coat and hung it on the rack.

"Tea sounds lovely." Nodding and with a sweep of his hand he indicated to follow him. Hermione looked around with interest, as they made their way through his apartment. The word 'flat' simply didn't do it justice. The large floor to ceiling windows granted a wonderful view of Salem and she was even able to see the ocean. Despite herself, she found herself moving towards those windows, trying to pick out landmarks from her high vantage point. The mix of industrial style and country house furniture made the space more inviting and modern instead of overdone and stuffy. A steaming cup of tea offered pulled her from her thoughts.

"Thank you. The view is breathtaking." She told him, while carefully taking the cup and saucer. Of course Draco would offer her tea not in a mug, but in a proper porcelain cup complete with saucer. The delicate china was so thin, she could actually see the amber shine of tea through it. Smiling he took a sip from his own tea.

"Thank you. I bought the building a year or so after my move here. After renovations were done, I unleashed an interior desginer on this space. He told me I had atrocious taste in furniture, but the windows I had chosen excused much." Both chuckled. Taking a look around, she appreciated the rude designer's tastes.

"Despite his manners, he did a good job. It looks relaxing and inviting." He smiled.

"Thank you. I paid him more than enough for that effect. Though I must admit, I didn't spend a lot of time here. With my work at the company, I usually only came by to sleep and change clothes. Being a professor has much better hours." Sharing an amicable smile, they enjoyed each others company and sipped their tea. The moment was disturbed by an acrid smell drifting over. She sniffed and raised an eyebrow.

"Draco?" She looked to him and he seemed lost in studying her. A soft smile tugged at her mouth. "Did you leave something on the stove when you came out here to bring my tea?" She asked.

"Hm?" He seemed lost in his thoughts.

"Did you leave anything on the stove when you brought out the tea?" She asked again, amused. This seemed to shake him from whatever place he'd gone in his head. Eyes widening comically he turned from her and quickly made his way into the kitchen. Chuckling she followed him. Judging by the curses and the amount of smoke in the air, yes, he had left something on the stove. Using a kitchen towel, he lifted a smoking pan off the stove and shucked it along with its contents into the old style porcelain sink. Due to the sink being so deep, she had to move up to him, to see what had been burned. A flat, brown-black pancake covered the burned surface of the pan. Sighing disappointed, he moved to turn on the water. Quickly she covered his hand with hers to stop him.

"You could ruin the pan by cooling it down too quickly. The pan's coating could crack and then you would have to get a new one. May I help?" Hanging his head, he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I had just put the batter in, then brought you your tea and got distracted." Lifting the pan from the sink, she turned the water to hot.

"No worries. It happens to the best of us. But what caught your attention? I am sure you have looked out those windows a hundred times." She inspected the pan and noted that it was, of course, of great quality and even though burned, the pancake easily slid off and into the trash can she automatically located under the sink. With only a splash of hot water and careful swipes of the sponge, the pan was quickly cleaned and ready for use again. Turning to him, since he had yet to answer her question, she was arrested by the intense look in his eyes.

"It wasn't what was outside my windows what caught my attention so exclusively to the point of making me forget about everything else." He murmured softly. She blushed and felt heat rising. Dear Merlin, but the man had a great voice. When there was no snarky, insulting undertones, it was smooth, cadenced and just made to whisper naughty things in your ear. Swallowing, she turned back to the stove, checked that the heat was turned down and placed the cleaned and dried pan back on the stove. She didn't need to turn around to know he was right behind her. She could feel his body heat radiating through her thin shirt. Despite her hormones doing the samba and celebrating like it was New Year's, she was still confused. First he basically ignored her these last few weeks and now he was standing right behind her, his breath a scorching brand on the sensitized skin of her neck. She bit her lip to keep from groaning. It wouldn't do to give away how much he affected her.

"Truly?" She managed to croak out. She felt him nodding against her hair. Was he sniffing it?!

He knew it was wrong and hardly appropriate behaviour, especially in view of how he had treated her these last few weeks, but he simply couldn't help himself. She was here, in his home, looking entirely too beautiful and fetching in her oversized cable-knit sweater, tight cotton pants and leather boots. The sweater was hanging fetchingly off her shoulder, baring the honeyed flesh of her shoulder to his eyes. Licking his lips, he wondered if it tasted as sweet as it looked. She wore her hair down today and her attire in general gave off a relaxed vibe. He could easily imagine her like this in his home permanently. Lounging on his sofa, sipping her tea and accepting his kisses, when he came to cuddle her. And he would. She radiated contentment and peace for him. Things he had been longing for a long time. Nightmares and his guilty conscience never let him truly relax or let his guard down, but with Hermione he felt it was possible.

"Surely you must know how entrancingly beautiful you are, Hermione." He murmured, his eyes closed in bliss. In his head, this was normal for them. Lightly flirting while preparing breakfast together. Any moment now she would lean into him, accepting his embrace and humming a melody as she cooked. It was perfect, it was peaceful and he would give everything he was and owned for it to be real. The spell was broken though by her stepping away from him. Swallowing and opening his eyes, he met her confused gaze.

"Draco, what is happening here? We almost kiss and then you don't talk to me for weeks. We talk about the team, yes, but never anything personal. Was it that bad? Was it embarassing for you? Is it because I am muggleborn?!" Her voice became raspier and her hands started to shake. Panicking a bit, he reached for her hands.

"No! No, no, no, Hermione. Please, I..." Sighing deeply, he lowered his head in shame. Blaise had been right. He should have talked to her. He never wanted her to doubt that he had changed or that this was simply some kind of trick he was playing on her. "I was...trying to protect your reputation." He finally admitted. Her failure to reply had him look up.

Out of all the things he could have said, this surprised her the most. She had assumed that he had been as confused as her about the change in their feelings for each other, but apparently he hadn't been confused at all.

"My reputation?" She asked, needing a more detailed explanation. She looked at him and what she saw had her heart melt a little. His face was so open and vulnerable. His eyes for once unguarded. Pursing his lips nervously, he nodded and rubbed her hands softly with his.

"Yes. It would have been...inappropriate. I...I hadn't courted you properly or made my intentions known and then there is the fact that I am paying your salary and if anyone found out and made assumptions or tried to belittle your achievements because they assume your findings weren't your own, since I was paying you and insinuated I hired you because I wanted my partner to have a position at the university..." She took pity on him and stopped his rambling by placing her fingers softly over his lips. Smiling tenderly, she moved her hand to gently caress his cheek.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked. Sighing he closed his eyes, but turned his head into her hand, seeking more contact. He seemed starved for such attention and she had no problem with giving it to him.

"It wasn't fair to you. You had just started to enjoy your life without any kind of interference or scrutiny from the press and having...having a...relationship?" His voice seemed even more unsure now, but she nodded to him in encouragement. "Having a relationship with me would ruin all that. Though the Americans do not know about my past, it would only take a bit of research and..." Again she put a halt to his rambling by placing her fingers over his lips. Taking a deep breath, his lips now formed a small smile.

"I see you have given this a lot of thought, Draco." She commented playfully. He snorted in suppressed laughter and dared to purse his lips in a chaste kiss against her fingers. Letting her hands rest on his chest, she took a deep breath herself. His worries were not unfounded. She had bitter rivals in academia and more than one of them would be more than happy to use exactly what he had described to besmirch her reputation and to belittle her contributions. As for the public reaction...she didn't care anymore. The fall out with Ron had shown her who her real friends were. Sure, the attention wouldn't be nice, but she wasn't much of a social butterfly anyways and her current employer, Dean McPherson wasn't swayed by public opinion.

"My friends and family will not care, Draco. And those are the only opinions I care about. Dean McPherson knows my abilities and so do the important people in the academic community. As long as you treat me with respect, no one who is important to me and has my trust, will object. Will it stir up discussions, especially back home? Surely. But that is no reason to completely ignore this."

"I just don't want you to get hurt. When I read what the Prophet had published after your break-up with Weasley, I was so mad. And that anyone believed that tripe!" Tears stood in her eyes. Even her old enemy had never believed the Prophet's lies and yet those closest to her had been happy to jump to conclusions. He seemed nervous again.

"Did I say something wrong?" He asked. Shaking her head, she pulled his head down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"No, Draco. You said nothing wrong." He breathed a sigh in relief and tentatively placed a hand on her hip.

"Good. I can put my foot in it sometimes and I've already hurt you more than enough with cruel words." A serene silence settled on them. The air cleared. For a time, they simply stood there, looking into each others eyes.

xXx

Blaise was in a grand mood. He'd had a great night's sleep, picked up Jane and was now on his way with her on his arm to Draco's apartment. She seemed to be in just as good a mood as him. He liked spending time with her. She was fun to be around, had a great sense of humour and liked to experiment in bed just as much as him. She was a far cry from the women he usually went for, but variety was the spice of life. And maybe Draco had a point. This relationship thing he'd pointed out yesterday didn't sound as awful as it used to. For the moment both had decided to just enjoy and see where it led. No promises or commitments made.

"So who is going to be there today, apart from your friend?" Jane asked, flipping her dark red hair back. It was an indication of her Irish heritage. As she'd told Blaise, her ancestors had immigrated from Ireland to Boston along with hundreds of others during the great famine in eighteen-fortysix. She was born and raised in Boston, her current position in Salem the farthest she'd travelled apart from one trip to Florida for Spring Break. So Blaise had found a mission in telling her about all the places he'd been and everything he'd seen. Already he'd planned a trip for them to Hawaii. One of the few places he'd not yet been.

"Our colleague, Hermione Granger is going to be there as well. The main reason Draco is inviting us over, is her." Jane leaned closer to him, sensing juicy gossip. She enjoyed a good bit of drama.

"Oh! Do tell!" She nudged him a bit. Chuckling he pulled her closer.

"You'll see. At times its painful to watch them." He sighed. He just wished his friend would jump over his shadow and talk to Granger. Both of them deserved some happiness. She sighed a little disappointed, but appreciated Blaise's loyalty to his friend.

"All right. But why did you insist I have a bite to eat before we left? I thought we would have brunch with your friends." He chuckled.

"Well, Draco is going to cook to impress Granger. And trust me, he isn't a good cook. Remember that shirt you liked so much? Ruined. Smells like grease even after I took it to the cleaner thing you told me about." Wrinkling her nose, she seemed less eager to get to their destination.

"Great. If nothing is edible over there, I'll expect you to take me to lunch." She warned. Kissing her temple, he hugged her closer.

"Of course, darling. I've made plans for the weekend and we'll both need plenty of strength." Laughing they continued on their way.

By the time they made it to Draco's front door, Blaise was almost giddy. He couldn't wait to see what kind of disaster waited for him and the others. Sure, Draco had claimed to have practiced, but the man was still an accident waiting to happen when he was alone with kitchen appliances. And Blaise didn't buy the whole stove conspiracy thing. He found it doubly amusing, since Draco was an exceptional potioneer. So he should be comfortable with ingredients and boiling liquids.

Jane followed after him, shaking her head at his antics. She was also a little intimidated at her current surroundings. She'd seen the apartment building from her flat a few times and dreamed about owning an apartment here. The prices had quickly killed that dream. She knew that Blaise was well off from the way he never looked at what something cost or by simply picking up things that peaked his interest. Like the MP3 player he'd bought on a whim, because she'd talked to him about it. It was a brand new Apple product with all the bells and whistles, which easily cost more than three-hundred dollars. He'd picked one up for her as well, so they could match. He'd simply tossed the box on the table, as if it was nothing. And for him, it apparently wasn't. She had gotten used to it by now. It seemed as if this Draco was just as loaded. She could only imagine what the penthouse apartment had to have cost.

"Come on! I don't smell smoke yet, but maybe he's put up spells so as not to scare us off." Blaise snickered and knocked on the door. Shaking her head, she stood next to him. After a few moments, the door opened and Jane was speechless. She thought Blaise was hot, and he was, but this man was polished marble perfection. Strong features, piercing eyes and elegant posture. His white-blond hair was a little longer than she expected. It reached his shoulders and the bangs were loosely tied back, so that they wouldn't hang into his face. A high quality, dark blue shirt and black slacks with dragon-hide shoes completed the look. The first few buttons were open and the sleeves rolled up. Just like Blaise he was ripped.

"Blaise. Welcome. Do come in. I assume this is Ms O'Brian?" He invited them in with a wave of his hand and both came in, Blaise with his nose in the air. Taking her coat, Jane was surprised when Draco mimicked a kiss to her hand in greeting.

"Yes, Draco. Of course it's her. I told you I would bring her. Why doesn't it smell atrocious in here? Did you cheat and order food?" Blaise asked suspiciously. Rolling his eyes and hanging up her coat, Draco politely led Jane further into the apartment.

"No, I didn't cheat, though I had some help." He smiled softly. Jane looked around for something to hold on to. Wow. This guy and Blaise could stop traffic no problem. Her search forgotten, she stared at the wealth in front of her. The floors, rugs and furniture screamed money.

"Draco?" A female voice had her look up. This had to be Hermione Granger, Jane thought and assessed the other woman. Long, wavy brown hair with gold highlights, brown eyes, nice enough figure...no competition. It sounded catty, but with all the wealth and sophistication around her, she felt unsure. She'd grown up in a two story brownstone where every room had been full of life and a little crammed. She and her siblings were used to sharing almost everything. Though their parents were relatively well off, both of them had had to work full time to provide for their five kids.

"It's time to flip the pancake." The other woman pointed out to their host, who nodded, wearing a cutely serious face, rolled his shoulders and made his way to the kitchen. The dining table was already set with various plates, containing buns, fruit, waffles and bacon. Smiling Granger walked over to them and gave Blaise a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"Check on him, will you? The stoves are out to get him again." She whispered and Blaise laughingly saluted her. Clasping her hands, Granger stopped in front of Jane.

"Hello. I am Hermione Granger. A colleague and friend of Blaise and Draco's." She offered her hand. Jane shook it, still feeling a little off kilter.

"Hi. Jane O'Brian. I teach advanced muggle studies at Salem University." Granger beamed, offering Jane a chair.

"Yes, Blaise mentioned that. Are you muggleborn as well?" She asked, while sitting down herself. Jane flicked back her hair.

"No. I grew up in wizarding Boston, but when I saw how the integration between magical and muggle businesses picked up speed, I decided that was a promising career path. After my first semester I was hooked. Sometimes I'm amazed how insulated the statute of secrecy has made our society."

"Oh, tell me about it." Granger smiled. "Some of my pureblood friends still don't know what I am talking about when I mention TV shows or quote movies. It's great for insider jokes with my best friend back in England though." She winked and Jane started to relax a bit. Granger seemed to be a nice person. "Do you prefer tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please." Nodding, Granger rose and poured her a cup, while pouring a cup of tea for herself. Gingerly Jane picked up the delicate cup and sipped at the strong coffee. Just what she liked. But she was anxious about even touching her cup, fearing it would shatter. Granger noticed.

"I know how you feel. The cups won't break though. Draco is very old school in some ways. Including his china." She winked and whispered. Jane blushed a bit.

"Is Draco...I mean...are they both, you know, rich?" She whispered. Granger's face closed down a bit.

"Yes, why?" She asked in a neutral voice. Drying her hands on her skirt, Jane threw a glance at the kitchen door to make sure the men wouldn't return. She took a chance by confiding in Granger, but from what Blaise had told her, she was a good person.

"I'm not! What if I'm not sophisiticated enough or something. I have no clue about fancy wines or dinner parties or any of that sort of thing." Granger placed her hand softly on Jane's, her face now showing a smile.

"Don't worry about that. Blaise doesn't really care about money. Or about dinner parties for that matter. He enjoys having enough money so that he can live life on his terms, but it's not what defines him. While he was part of the high society in England, he left that behind happily for quidditch. While I don't like the sport, it seems to have afforded him the outlet and friends he was looking for. Blaise is exactly what he seems. He and his mother never really cared about all the pretentious parties and empty chatter." Breathing easier, Jane nodded and smiled at Granger. Leaning closer, she threw the kitchen door another look.

"And Draco? I wouldn't want to embarrass Blaise." Granger laughed and leaned back.

"Don't worry about Draco. Yes, he is rich as well, but he doesn't expect everyone around him to dance to the same tune as him. He has perfect manners, which is nice, and he does appreciate the finer things in life, he is a human being just like you and me. As long as you do not chew with your mouth open or show no intelligence whatsoever, he will be open to getting to know you." Nodding, Jane leaned back and took another sip from the excellent coffee. She felt a bit better now and started to relax.

"So are you and Draco a couple too?" Granger blushed and Jane sensed more there.

"Maybe. We are still figuring that out. We have a lot of history. Not all of it good." Interested Jane sat up a bit.

"Oh? You know each other long?" Granger nodded after taking a sip of her own.

"Yes. We all went to the same boarding school. Did Blaise tell you about Hogwarts?"

"Yes, he did. Some old castle in Scotland, right?" Smiling Granger nodded.

"Well, at school all students get sorted into houses. Kind of like your fraternities and sororities. Blaise and Draco were in Slytherin and I was in Gryffindor. Our houses were traditional enemies. During class and other activities, you could earn your house points and at the end of the term, the house cup would be awarded to the house with the most points. Naturally this bred rivalry amongst us. I am a bit of a bookworm and it vexed Draco and other Slytherins that I would outperform them. Me being muggleborn was a thorn in some of their eyes as well." Jane raised her eyebrows as this. She'd read about the conflict that had ravaged Brittain and the reasons behind it.

"That pureblood stuff? I read that those Death Dealers even attacked muggle London."

"Death Eaters and yes. The older families were and some still are, deeply entrenched in their traditions and clinging to the memories of the influence they used to have. They were easy prey for the madman who promised to bring the glory days back and gave them an established 'enemy'. Apparently muggleborns would steal their magic from purebloods. It was a better answer to the amount of squibs and mediocre wizards born to purebloods than the logical one." Jane nodded seriously.

"Inbreeding." She summed up. Granger nodded.

"Yes. But being pureblooded was a point of pride and it was tradition to keep the line 'pure'." Jane shook her head.

"They must have known. I mean, the amount of still births, malformations and psychological impairments. Besides, anybody who breeds animals knows this. I assume most of those purebloods are loaded, so they would most likely have stables or something. Raising and breeding rare animals is the current rage among the rich and famous here." Granger nodded, but a sad smile was on her face.

"It would have meant changing centuries of tradition and indoctrination. Believing a preposterous lie about stealing magic is easier." Mulling this over, Jane leaned back.

"I guess. But it makes no logical sense! How were muggles supposed to steal magic, when they had none of their own. Not even to mention that muggles are unaware of the magical society in general." Smiling Hermione toasted her with her own cup.

"Thank you. I have been trying to make this point so many times to stubborn purebloods who still have nothing better to do than to insult me." Jane snorted, shaking her head.

"Well, let them cling to their beliefs. Nature will take its course and natural selection will do the rest." Both women laughed and clinked their cups. A loud commotion from the kitchen interrupted their bonding. Worried both women stood and made their way over. They were greeted with two men currently fighting over a pan and Blaise wearing a pancake like a hat.

"Give it back, Blaise!" Draco snarled.

"No way! I get to decorate you too. So stand there like the good boy you are and take it like a man."

"That's a contradiction in terms."

"I don't care!" Jane and Hermione looked at each other with wide eyes and had to hold their hands in front of their mouths, to hold in their laughter. Clearing her throat, Hermione stood straighter, crossing her arms. Jane immediately copied her stance and put on a stern face. Both men froze in their fight over the pan and turned slowly to the women in the doorway. Silence hung between them.

"What is going on here?" Hermione asked in a neutral voice. Quickly both men righted themselves and adjusted their dishevelled clothes. Blaise removed the pancake from his head and chucked it into the sink, while Draco carefully put the pan down on the kitchen island. Still both men kept their mouths shut. Hermione raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"He started it." Blaise blurted out and pointed an accusing finger at Draco. Dropping his mouth open in shock, Draco turned to his, former, best friend.

"Excuse me? I was showing you how I was able to flip a pancake and you grabbed the pan while I was doing that. How is your poor impulse control my fault?" Before they could get into it, Hermione stepped between them.

"Enough gentlemen. This is no way to behave in the presence of ladies." Both men looked chastised to their feet and mumbled apologies. Jane bit her lip to keep from laughing. The way they shuffled their feet and continued to clean the kitche was adorable. Hermione winked at her and Jane felt herself relax completely. Sure, those two were richer than the Rockefellers, but at heart they were just boys. And Hermione seemed like a really nice girl.

 **Author's note: Lucky readers. I couldn't sleep and decided to edit the next chapter. ;) I hope to get more out to you soon, but work could get in the way. :P**

 **Before I get flames about Hermione switching her affections so quickly, let me explain...it will get cleared up in the next chapter.**

 **Thank you so much for your continued support. Please leave a note or review, since I am always looking to improve on my writing. Also, I have found that your reviews make me write and edit faster. ;P**

 **Have a good one!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: Thanks for the continued support. :) I just finished editing and the following chapters are going to get a bit dark. As promised, the explanation concerning Hermione's date.**

 **I also would like to thank the reviewer who pointed out my mistake in Ch 15 concerning the size of the document folder. It should have read A3 as you suggested. ;)**

 **So, this chapter and the next few will get a bit darker. No trigger warnings as such. I will need a bit of time to tweak the next few chapters. You will see why. Have a good one. :)**

Chapter 17

After the little altercation in the kitchen, the four moved to the dining room, where Hermione proceeded to fill each person's cup with the drink of their choice. Draco had opted to sit across from Hermione and next to Blaise instead of at the head of the table. He felt it would have been too formal. Jane sat across from Blaise and next to Hermione, lending a symmetry to the seating arrangement Draco appreciated. He was slightly obsessed concerning such things. Raising his cup, he looked to each of his guests.

"Thank you all for coming and thank you, Hermione, for assisting in the kitchen. Without you none of this would have been possible." He nodded to her and she waved him off.

"Thank you for the invitation and you were doing fine on your own." Smiling she winked at him. Both had agreed not to mention the first, burned pancake to Blaise. Zabini snorted at that, but said nothing, when Draco threw him a dark look. Blaise threw Hermione and Jane a wink, while both women shook their heads.

"Please tuck in." Draco lifted his cup to indicate the end of his toast and the others followed suit. Each took a sip and then proceeded to fill their plates with pancakes, fruit and whatever else struck their fancy. Jane was taking small bites at first, since Blaise had been going on about how terrible a cook Draco was, but everything tasted great. Dabbing her mouth with her napkin, she said so and took a sip of the amazing coffee. She had to find out what blend it was.

"Thank you, but most of the praise must go to Hermione. I only followed the instructions on the recipe and her guidance concerning spices and the handling of the pan." Draco said deprecatingly. Shaking her head, Jane leaned back.

"Nonsense. For someone who doesn't really know how to cook, this is great. I can only imagine what Blaise would come up with." Her boyfriend sat up at this, a small scowl on his face.

"Excuse me?! You enjoyed the teramisu I made." He pointed out. Nodding she pulled apart a fluffy croissant that practically melted on her tongue. God! She had to find out at which bakery Draco had gotten those.

"Yes, but that is the only thing you've ever made. Apart from badly burned toast. And I don't buy your assertion that it has to be that way to give it flavour." Next to her, Hermione snorted into her cup.

"Sorry." She mumbled, blushing and dabbing her mouth with her napkin.

"That is an unfounded insinuation. You never asked me for any other dishes." Jane raised an eyebrow.

"So I have to spell out everything I want from you now? Since when? Normally you're so good at taking non-verbal cues." She threw him a saucy wink and he fidgeted a bit in his seat. Draco was laughing and Jane again asked herself how she came to be here, sitting at a table with two hot men. One of which she had every intention of dragging back to her bed tonight. In what manner was absolutely up to him. She'd always wanted to try a bit of bondage and currently Blaise was headed that way.

"Darling, that's not what I meant..." Before he could continue, Hermione raised her hand. His patronising tone had grated on her nerves.

"Stop Blaise, while you're ahead." She warned. Draco nodded.

"Wise advise, my friend." A smug smile on Malfoy's face. Narrowing his eyes at a way too complacent Draco, Blaise turned his attention back to Granger.

"So, Hermione. How did the date go last night?" He asked lightly. Next to him, Draco stiffened. Good. Wanker, throwing him to the wolves like that. How did the other shoe fit, Mr Perfect? Jane gave Hermione a confused look, since just a half hour ago she'd indicated something developing between her and Draco. And Hermione didn't give the impression of a two-timing bitch, as Jane liked to call them. While she did like to have fun, she stuck to one guy at a time and expected the same courtesy from him. Yes, she'd had casual sex with virtual strangers, but each time it had been understood that while they had sex, they only had sex with each other. In the age of AIDS, HIV and other dangerous diseases, she wasn't keen on gambling with her health. Yes, there were protection spells and condoms, but she still felt safer not playing russian roulette in the various beds. A friend of hers had lived with various partners both male and female and claimed it was the natural state and that it was the best experience of her life. Jane didn't judge, but she wouldn't be able to deal with her boyfriend getting out of her bed to go to the next room and fuck another woman. Right where she could hear it.

Clearing her throat and feeling uncomfortable at being put on the spot like this, Hermione fortified herself with another sip of tea.

"The date was...OK?" She looked to the others, who now wore quizzical expressions.

"OK?" Blaise slowly asked. Sighing and dropping her hands into her lap, she tried to find the words. Looking to Draco, she noted the slight flicker of hurt in his eyes. Blowing out her breath, she decided to just tell them.

"Yes. Peter picked me up at my apartment and we went to a wizarding pub in Saint street." Jane nodded. Apparently she knew it. "It was pretty full, but he got us a table. It was loud and it seemed as if half the place knew his name. I had hoped for a quieter setting but was willing to go along with it. After all, it was a first date. If he felt more comfortable in that setting, then I wanted to at least make an effort." She rolled her shoulders, remembering people pressing in from all sides, sometimes reaching over her to greet Peter. She didn't feel comfortable in crowded rooms. Again something she was working on with her therapist. Since she was unable to see everything, she was constantly on alert. Her stress level had risen with each new person coming to their table, getting too close and Peter didn't notice or seem to mind. Which she had found curious.

"He kept greeting friends, which was making any kind of conversation almost impossible. Not to mention that it was quite loud. I had to raise my voice all the time so that he could understand. I haven't been on many dates, but that's not usual, right?" She looked to the others present. Draco's dark demeanour surprised her the most. Had she done something wrong? She had only been out with Peter once and never given him any indication of a permanent commitment. She viewed last night not as a date, but rather like an outing with a new acquaintance. Blaise's face had also darkened a bit, while Jane was a bit more contemplative.

"Maybe he was just trying to impress you with the amount of friends he has." She proposed. Blaise shook his head and thumped the table.

"The wanker was being a complete asshat. Taking a woman on a first date to your favourite bar? Seriously?! Does that actually work?" He asked confused. Jane shrugged.

"Probably worked for him plenty in his glory days, when he was the star quidditch pick for a good college. At that age, being popular is all life is about. Girls would have been impressed. Guess he never changed his MO." Draco snorted derisively.

"He wasn't out with a _girl_ , but a _woman_! A beautiful, intelligent woman, who deserved more respect than being shown around like a prize or peace of meat to his so-called friends!" All turned to him at his outburst and he breathed deeply to calm down. Despite Draco having wanted the date not to go well, he had never wanted Hermione to be treated badly. And from what he could tell, she had been. At least he thought so.

"Yes, well, anyway...I decided to take my leave after nachos and during his tale of how his team won some important game or another. He kept inviting people to sit at our table, introducing me. I guess he hoped I would make friends with his. While I am open to meeting other people, I'd rather do it in small numbers and under calmer circumstances." At this she gave a smile to Jane, who nodded back. She understood. Sometimes she was in the mood for crowds and meeting new people and sometimes she just wanted to talk and take her time. Blaise clapped his hand over his face and shook his head slowly. Peeking through his fingers, he looked at her pleadingly.

"Nachos?" He whispered weakly. Nodding, she elicited a pained groan from him. He leaned on Draco's shoulder. "Nachos, Draco. On a first date, the idiot takes her to a crowded pub and offers her _**nachos**_!" He emphasised the last dramatically, as if Hermione had been offered blood from a skull goblet. It broke the tense atmosphere when they had to chuckle at his antics. Even Draco cracked a smile.

"Get off it, Blaise." He grumbled, picking up his tea cup.

"But nachos! That's like offering the queen, or your mother, a bag of fish and chips! It's like the Mona Lisa wearing a shit eating grin! It's...It's like MacGonagall wearing a sexy black dress! It's blasphemy. I lost all the respect I had for the man." Sniffing he picked up his cup. "Nachos!" He growled again. The women were trying to keep their laughter inside, while Draco chuckled at his friend's antics. He knew what Blaise was doing. Giving Draco something else to focus on instead of his anger.

A cheery, if a little melancholy melody had all of them turn their heads to a small leather bag on the armoire. Hermione rose from her seat and both Blaise and Draco got up. Jane raised an eyebrow, while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Please sit. I am sorry, but I have to get that." Jane swayed a little to the music.

"Nice. MASH?" She asked. Hermione raised her eyebrows when returning to the table and opening her bag.

"Yes. How did you...oh, yes. Advanced muggle studies." She remembered and pulled her mobile phone from her bag. In Hermione's hurry to get to it, she lost hold of the sleek smart phone and it clattered to the floor. Jane bent down and fished it out from under her chair, where the phone had slid. Not meaning to, but out of habit, Jane glanced at the screen. Schooling her features, she handed the phone with a smile to Hermione. Returning the smile, Hermione took the phone and picked up.

"Just a moment, please." She told the person on the other end and then covered the phone with her hand. "I am very sorry about this. Please excuse me." Lifting the phone back to her ear, she left for the kitchen. Jane looked after Hermione, worry on her face.

"Was Hermione some kind of soldier in that war of yours?" She asked. Surprised Blaise and Draco raised their eyebrows.

"How did you know?" Blaise asked in the end. Shrugging she took a bite of her bacon.

"I didn't mean to pry, but I saw the name of the caller. Dr Adele Miller is a great therapist. She helped a muggle friend of mine deal with his PTSD." She only saw confusion on their faces.

"PTSD?" Blaise asked. Draco fidgeted in his seat.

"We shouldn't discuss it." He said uncertainly. Jane considered it, but from what she'd seen of the their interactions together, she'd noted that they were protective of Hermione. In which case telling them about PTSD was a good idea. She'd educated herself a bit on the subject in order to help her friend adjust.

"PTSD stands for posttraumatic stress disorder. It's a mental condition which can occur in people who've been exposed to traumatic events, like an accident, assault or war. It's a serious thing. People affected by it can have flash-backs, nervous break-downs, you name it. My friend went to Dr Miller for therapy and he's doing much better." While Blaise only seemed to mull this over, Draco had paled considerably. "Are you okay?" She asked him concerned. Rising abruptly, he upset some of the china on the table.

"Would you please excuse me?" He asked in a cold tone and left without waiting for an answer.

xXx

Hermione was in the middle of discussing her scheduled sessions with Adele, when Draco suddenly burst into the kitchen.

"Do you still have nightmares? About...about _**her**_?" He asked, his face ashen and guilt written all over it. While she was angry and selfconscious about having been interrupted while scheduling her therapy sessions, her heart softened at the obvious distress he was in.

"Adele? Can I call back later? Yes, I am fine. My friend Draco just...I need to talk to him for a moment. I will ask him. See you on Tuesday." Hanging up, she softly put down her cell phone on the kitchen island. She saw that Blaise was looking around the door jamb, but she subtly shook his head. He nodded and backed away. Sighing and softly taking Draco's shaking hand, she softly led him farther away from the door. She had no illusions about Blaise being right outside. Raising a muffliato was a possibility, but she wanted Blaise to be able to lend assistance to Draco if needed and this way, he was only a call away.

"Please tell me, Hermione." Draco begged. Taking a deep breath and holding his hands tighter to stop her own from trembling, she looked up at him.

"Yes, Draco. I still sometimes have nightmares about that night. About what your aunt did. They are not as bad anymore and I rarely have them now. I had problems letting my guard down. I hate camping now because of that year I spent on the run with Harry and Ron. I don't like to be in crowds, since I cannot see what people are doing. If there is a door or window at my back, I cannot concentrate. Some noises trigger memories. I abhor spiders and though I believe that most werewolves are misunderstood and are generally nice people, I can't stand to be in a room with one. Don't get me started on snakes." She smiled weakly, her voice quivering a bit. It had been one of the first and one of the hardest lessons of her sessions. To identify and confront her fears. Otherwise she would consicously and subconsciously avoid certain situations, limiting her life and existing in a constant state of fear. Anxious and stressed about what might trigger an episode and what wouldn't. It had been hard in the beginning and she often had been a mess, but her friends, family, therapist and group sessions had gotten her through it. It had been a huge relief that others experienced the same as her. It made her feel more normal. And it also gave her hope, since others in her group had spoken of it getting better. And that had been something she'd clung to in the first months. By now, she was the one in group sessions giving others hope, who still had the long, hard voyage towards normality in front of them. Her hands hurt because Draco held them so tight, but she didn't say anything.

"I am so sorry!" He whispered, tears in his eyes. "I never wanted...it was all my fault. I let them into the school. I didn't say anything when she...she...when she hurt you. I wanted...I wanted to help, but I was frozen in place. I'd grown numb being around them all the time. It was abstract and then you were there and the screams, dear Merlin the screams!" His voice was lost in a rasp and the tears fell. Tears were rolling down her face as well and she freed one of her hands and caressed his cheek.

"I know, Draco." Her voice was thick with emotion. "I know you never wanted that. I saw your face. I remember." He shook his head violently, his hair tie coming a little loose. Grasping her face tenderly between his hands, he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Never! I was a fool. My father made being a Death Eater out to be a grand and honourable thing, but it was only sick and twisted. They forced me to watch things, to do things. And that snake-faced bastard took everything my family was and ruined it. I hate what I became." He needed her to know. To understand.

While he was in his early teens and his head filled with the stories his father told him, he had dreamed of being a Death Eater. It had sounded dangerous and exciting. The reality had been far from it. Psychopaths had the run of the Manor. Led by the maddest and most dangerous of them all. What he'd witnessed in the place where he'd played with his toys and friends, how almost each room had been desecrated by the nausea inducing depravities the 'old guard' Death Eaters liked to indulge in. His peers, who had been raised to be the second generation had almost to a man or woman been disillusioned after a single 'meeting'. While his father had described those meetings as clandestine meetings of utmost importance to discuss dark magic and plots to further the cause, the meetings after the Dark Lord's return were simply exercises in cruelty and madness. Muggles, muggleborns, so-called blood traitors and Death Eaters fallen from favour were debased, tortured and more often than not killed right in front of him. And the worst was that the Dark Lord expected them to enjoy and revel in it. And most of the old generation had. Definitely all those who had been in Azkaban.

In a rare show of fatherly concern, Lucius had tried to shield him from the meetings and the excesses that would follow. The torture and punishments kept him in a constant state of alert. After a time he just became numb, until Potter, Weasley and Hermione had been dragged in by snatchers. Stupid idiots who thought that by acting like lap dogs, the Dark Lord would take notice and include them in the circle. At that time the circle was nothing but a group of raving maniacs. The Dark Lord would break out into childish temper tantrums whenever something didn't go his way. It would have been amusing to see an adult man acting like a five year old, if it hadn't been for the vast amount of power at the Dark Lord's fingertips. As his entire family had found out shortly after Hermione and the others had managed to flee.

Again Lucius had acted out of character and tried to shield both him and his mother. For some reason the Dark Lord had indeed spared his mother, but to 'teach them a lesson' Draco had been punished. Bellatrix was to do it and the deranged bitch had gone to town on him and when he'd lain bleeding on the ground, his mother in tears while still remaining stoic and upright so as to not anger the Dark Lord more, Bellatrix had thrown herself at the bastards feet and begged him to punish her. That she would show her loyalty through her pain. They'd been the perfect pair and Draco had wondered why the Dark Lord didn't simply kill Rabastan to have Bellatrix for himself. Or that she wouldn't kill her husband to be free for the freak. In the end, none of the three cared about the relationship statuses of the others. Rabastan was almost constantly out of his mind on pixie dust, turning him into a drooling vegetable, while the Dark Lord took pleasure in torture and speaking to his snake about the great and wonderful things he would do for wizardkind and Bellatrix torturing with him and throwing herself at his feet whenever he felt like he needed a bit of adoration. Occasionally they would fuck. In front of everybody, claiming it as some kind of ancient ritual, but Draco believed that the Dark Lord just got off on the fact that Bellatrix was so eager to debase herself in front of everyone else. Add in the fact that it was pyschological torture for his mother, who remebered her older sister very differently.

Shaking all over now as all the memories he mostly managed to bottle up inside rushed to the surface, he looked into her eyes and made a confession. She deserved to know.

"I killed a child." He whispered. Time seemed to stop.

 **Author's note: I know I am bad for leaving you here, but I want to do this right. I'll work hard on getting the next chapter to you asap.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note: Trigger warning - Implied child abuse**

 **Chapter 18**

Hermione's mind reeled. She stood frozen staring at the man in front of her. When his trial had come up, she had had long discussions with Harry and Ron whether to speak up on his behalf. He had been caught by family and circumstance. Not a true supporter, but simply trying to survive and keep his family alive the best he knew how. No matter the cost. Hermione knew exactly how that felt. After all, she had obliviated her own parents.

And now this. Had she been so wrong? After such careful soul searching, examining his every action throughout the years before she'd given her testimony, which had been one of the major deciding factors in only gaining him a light sentence, had she been wrong all along?

"What?" She managed to get out. Her throat felt entirely too small for words or air. It couldn't be. Not when she had just allowed herself to trust in him. In his change and allow her heart to open up.

He was shaking all over now, swallowing convulsively as if trying not to throw up.

"I killed a child." He repeated, still holding on to her as if he needed her to remain standing.

"Why? Did they make you? Please tell me they made you." She begged and wasn't ashamed to admit it to herself. It couldn't be true. Please, it couldn't be true. He shook his head.

"No one made me. I decided to do it myself." Gasping she pushed him away. He seemed to collapse on himself, the only thing keeping him standing the kitchen island now between them. "She was six years old." Hermione paled even further and wasn't sure her legs would keep her standing much longer. How could she have been so wrong about him?!

"Why? Why, Draco! What did she do? Did she look at you wrong?" She screamed. Old anger burning through her. Smashing his hands into the kitchen island, he looked her straight in the eyes. It seemed that for the first time ever, his shields were down. Fear, guilt and a broken sadness swirled in their depths. He shook his head, not hiding from her accusing gaze.

"No. She looked at me right. At the point when I reached her, speech was beyond her. She was a muggleborn witch. Her name was Samantha Greer. Her parents were Thomas and Vanessa. They lived in Surrey. She liked the colour blue. Her favourite toy was a bunny she called fluffy and which her mother had always tucked in with her." His voice started to shake, but he continued. He owed it to Samantha. She had saved his life and he had ended her pain.

A gleeful Rabastan had led him to the dungeons and told him that he should feel honoured, since he was being introduced to the most important research being done in the Dark Lord's name. Namely how muggleborns stole the magic from the pureblooded. Upon entering the cell, his uncle had kicked the corpses of Samantha's parents out of the way and presented the huddled, mistreated body of Samantha as if it was an early christmas present. It had taken all of Draco's training received from both his father and godfather not to loose it that instant. Samantha's brown hair was filthy and matted with blood. It was obvious that she had been repeatedly beaten and cursed. Her sundress was torn and he'd had prayed that the tears didn't indicate an even darker form of abuse. She had looked at him and something must have given him away, since she didn't look at him with terror, but with hope. Her jaw was hanging at an angle and her throat was bruised and that was when Draco realised, why his uncle had asked for him.

One, he was one of the best legilimens among their ranks, despite his young age and two, due to his reticence in joining the general murder, mayhem and madness, other Death Eaters had become suspicious of him. They wouldn't as yet call him weak to his face, but he'd known it was only a matter of time. And there was no safe place for someone viewed as weak cooped up in a house full of murderous psychopaths. Wormtail had been the whipping boy just about anyone could push around without risk of repercussion. His assistance in raising the Dark Lord and the favour earned through it had worn out shortly after Harry Potter once more escaped from Voldemort during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. His mother had taken Draco aside just that morning and urged him to swallow his reticence, lock away his emotions and conscience and simply do what he was asked. She had feared for his life after the punishment Bellatrix had exacted on him. And she had been right to. When he met other Death Eaters, who were lounging around in his home as if it was theirs, they had started to follow him with their eyes like predators. Staying still and waiting for their prey to flinch and run. Draco wasn't stupid though. He knew that the appaerance of strength and self-assuredness could carry him a long way.

Only up to a point though. He had desperately wracked his brain in his room, trying to come up with a plan to regain standing among the Death Eaters, or fail and be the next 'amusement' at the weekly meeting. He had come up empty. His knowledge wasn't wanted, nor his wit. The Dark Lord didn't want to take the sly approach anymore. Sure, he had intelligent people working for him and he himself was also highly intelligent, but his motives were schewed and his focus only on one thing. To kill Harry Potter and prove to all and sundry he was the greatest dark wizard that ever lived. Meanwhile his cronies in the ministry blindly strove to accomplish their own goals and gain personal wealth, power or secrets. Which was why the Order of the Phoenix never had truly been in danger of being caught. No one cared enough to make a true effort. All of them too greedy and too focused on their own ambitions. And the Dark Lord was too caught up in his obsession to actually lead in any capacity. When he called upon the other Death Eaters they came running out of fear, but the rest of the time, he basically ignored them. Since the Ministry had fallen, there was no longer anything or anyone stopping the Death Eaters from simply taking what they wanted or desired. So without fear of repercussion or imprisonment, they rampaged and when they had what they wanted, they paid lip service to the Dark Lord's ranting. Only a few were 'true' believers, like his aunt, the Carrows and a few others who would hang on his every word as if it was divine revelation. Most just rode his coat tails, so as to quickly achieve what they wanted or steal it. And for some it was finally the accepted outlet for their cruel and sadistic sides. Like Dolores. Her brand of cruelty was darker and more vicious than any his aunt had come up with. She used spells and curses only sparingly. She brought witches and wizards in, giving them hope in saying they would be able to defend themselves from anonymous accusations Dolores more than likely had either made up or made herself. Giving the impression of being reasonable and sympathetic. Throughout her 'trials' she made sure to keep that hope alive. And then she would crush it and you. Dozens had died because of her.

Draco had feared this day would come. That he would look into another person's eyes and know that his face would be the last this person saw. And it made him sick. He didn't want this. Any of it. He never had. He had wanted to be respected. Maybe even feared, when he was younger. He'd seen how people reacted to his father and it had impressed him. It seemed to be the ideal state. And now his blind devotion to his father and his father's ideals had brought him here. To a poorly lit, dripping cell with mould growing on the walls, and a beaten child huddling in a corner on spoiled straw. The floor pasted with blood and other bodily fluids he didn't want to think about. Rabastan had pushed him in further, towards the girl who was obviously terrified of his uncle. It made him nauseous that such things went on in his home. The place he'd always thought safe. Everything he had, had been stained by torture, murder and madness. In that moment, he felt tired. So very tired and wasn't sure any of it was worth it anymore. Seeing Potter had given him some hope, but without Granger, how far would he make it? Weasley might carry them some of the way, but without Granger's brain they wouldn't make it. Had his inaction gambled away the only chance of this nightmare to end?

"She was hurting **so** much! They'd left her with her parents' bodies." He was no longer in his shiny kitchen, but back in that cell with Samantha. Staring into her blood-shot, swollen eyes. Both of them just wanting it to end. "Since she could no longer talk, my uncle wanted me to tear her mind apart. Find out how her parents had given her magical abilities and from which wizard or witch they'd stolen the magic." His entire body was shaking now.

"I...I didn't ask her permission. I thought about my mother and what would happen if I failed. What would happen to my father. They had already fallen so far from grace...I knew what the others were capable of. Had seen it first-hand." A sob burst from his chest, constricting his throat. Pressing his eyes shut, he tried to take a deep breath. She had to know. She deserved to know.

"I just dove in. I was afraid. None of it is an excuse for what I did. She was so terrified, all of it a jumble and I was, I was not careful. I got lost in her mind. And I wanted to stay there. She had retreated deep into her subconscious. Happy memories. Christmas. Her bunny. Her familiy's puppy. And she knew I was there." He felt as if there was no air in the room. It was hard to breathe, but he owed it to Samantha to continue. "The shape I was in, she could have pushed me out easily. No spell needed. No amount of power. But she let me stay. She let me share in her happy memories. And when I...when I told her what needed to happen, she hugged me. She hugged me and told me it was OK." He was full out crying now. His body shook in spasms, his legs giving out. Hermione was right there and he looked into her eyes. Her face blurry through his tears.

"She gave me permission. But until I die I will have to live with the fact that I killed a child to save my own worthless life." His chest hurt, it was hard to breathe and he had never cried so hard. Wetness splashed on his brow and he realised that Hermione was crying too. She knelt next to him and had pulled him to her chest. He clung to her and cried. For Samantha, her parents, the boy he'd been, the innocence that was stripped not only from him, but Hermione as well. All for one man's insane ambition.

xXx

Jane wasn't sure what to do. She had done her best not to listen in on what was being said in the kitchen. It was obvious that the situation there had quickly developed into something intensely private. In an effort to protect their privacy, while Blaise of course eavesdropped, she moved to the couch in the living room. All she could hear now were dim mumbles. Simply leaving seemed rude. She wasn't sure how to handle the situation and asking Blaise would mean moving closer to the kitchen. She felt like this was her fault. She shouldn't have looked at the phone. Instant bad karma payback for being nosy. Her mother had been right.

Shuddering at that thought, she rose and perused the titles of the many books. She was surprised that Draco didn't own a TV. Who in this day and age didn't have a TV? He had amazing books though. All the classics both magic and muggle. And what seemed to be first editions too. She was almost afraid to pull one out and open it. At random she pulled out a dark green, leather bound tome. Opening it, her eyebrows rose high, as her eyes bulged, when she read the title. _Discussions on muggle alchemy_ was supposed to be a myth! Only twenty copies had been printed in fourteen-fiftytwo and all of them were said to have been destroyed or lost. Her mouth hanging open and moving carefully back to the couch, she held the book as if it was made of the most delicate crystal. It had to be a copy. A fake, something! But then Draco was crazy rich. He'd probably hired someone to find it. Throw enough money at antique hunters and eventually they would dig something up. Lovingly she caressed the binding and the pages. How was it still in such good shape? The leather was hardly cracked and the pages were pristine. The ink still sharp and readable without any problem. Well, except for the fact it was written in an old dialect. With a few reference materials it shouldn't be a problem. Would Draco let her borrow this? It would make for a fascinating paper and she had been looking for a new topic. This proved that even after the implementation of the statute of secrecy, muggle and wizard scientists had discussed their theories.

When she heard foot steps, she looked up excitedly, but when she saw Blaise's face, her excitement died immediately. His face was sad and his shoulders slumped. He seemed almost defeated and she'd never seen him like this. Carefully closing the book, she scooted closer to him.

"What is it?" She asked softly. Shaking his head, he sat on the sofa next to her and took her hand in his.

"I'd thought he'd overcome all that shit. Seems as if I was wrong." Her eyes widened a bit in sympathy.

"He fought in the war too?" Blaise nodded.

"Yeah. It was hard for him. I tried to cheer him up, get him out and about. He used to be the life of the party. Always wanting to be the centre of attention. Now he prefers the sidelines and I can't blame him, but sometimes I miss the chap I knew. The one who would play pranks and sneak out with me to buy firewhiskey with an aging potion he'd brewed himself." A melancholy smile tugged at his lips. Softly she stroked his hand and simply listened.

"Most of my generation only know him as a snobby, entitled prat with an ego bigger than a giant, but he had a whole other side. He didn't need to uphold the family name with me and could just be himself. He would chew my ear off about some new book he'd read, or we would fly on our brooms for hours on end, just goofing around. He was an excellent musician. It's tradition for purebloods in Europe to learn at least one classical instrument and he excelled at it. Give him a piano and books and he would be happy." He sighed deeply and his face darkened. "But his father, that rat bastard, had other plans. His son was to become just like him. A stuck-up prick with delusions of grandeur. Pulling political strings in the background just because he could. Draco was never truly interested in any of that. But in our circles you're rarely asked what you want. Your parents decide and then you have to make the best of it." He gave her a tired smile and raised her hand to kiss the back.

"Sounds hard." She simply said. She'd heard about ambitious parents pushing their kids to be the next Flamel or Merlin. Planning their entire lives for them and Circe help you if you stepped a toe out of line. Add age old family traditions to that and an image to uphold and she didn't even want to imagine the amount of stress it could create. To sublimate your own dreams and desires, since it was decided from the moment of your birth who you would be and what you would do for a living. Sure, her mother still called her at least once a week to ask whether Jane didn't think it would be a great time to settle down and pop out some grandchildren for her, but that was it. Neither she nor her father had ever pushed Jane in any specific direction.

"Was it that way for you too?" She asked interested. Shaking his head with a crooked grin, he interlaced their fingers.

"No. My mother was and still is a social butterfly, but she wasn't interested in most of the old traditions. She found them limiting." She raised an eyebrow.

"To finding new husbands?" She asked cheekily. He chuckled and nodded. He'd told her early on about his mother, since the woman had a disturbing habit of just showing up wherever he lived unannounced. So the possibility of his mother walking in on them was pretty high. At first Jane had been disturbed, but after Blaise had explained about his mother's lifestyle and her blasé reaction to anything sexual, she had relaxed. Sure, she wasn't eager for her boyfriend's mother to just show up, but that was why she had pushed for them to spend more time at her place.

"I told you, it's not her fault. All those rumours about her being a black widow are just that. She dumps them when she gets bored and they tell others she tried to poisen them or something, because they are bitter. I've told her a hundred times she doesn't have to marry them, but she keeps saying it wouldn't be proper." He snorted. "I think she just enjoys having weddings so much. All the guests, the food and the dress. Not to mention that all the attention is on her, the radiant bride." He winked at her with a twinkle in his eye. Frowning he looked at her other hand, still holding the book reverently.

"What's this?" He asked, snatching up the book and letting it fall open on his lap. Groaning after trying to read a bit, he tossed it negligently on the wingback chair. Jane gasped, her eyes bulging and her hand reaching out to try and catch it.

"Are you insane?! That book is priceless!" She ranted. He only shrugged, tugged on her hand, so that she would lean closer to him.

"They all are. Draco has tons of those." He waved it away as if it was nothing. Paling, Jane leaned closer to him, grabbing his shirt.

"He has more like that?! How many? Where are they?!" Chuckling he leaned back.

"If you're nice to me, I might tell you." He practically purred. For a moment they just stared at each other, before both of them smiled.

"How nice would I have to be?" She asked in a sultry voice, nuzzling his chest. Blaise's grin widened as he leaned back into the couch.

"Let the games begin." He invited.

 **Author's note: Thanks again for all your support and the reviews. I am taking them to heart, they keep me going and improve my writing. I will fix the viewpoint issue in the last chapter a guest pointed out to me. I fear that when I edited the chapter it was two in the morning and I was a little tired. :P**

 **Before you rush to judge Blaise on his turn-around, he is seeking comfort in a place he knows. ;)**

 **Have a great one!**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Hermione and Draco sat on the kitchen floor, their backs leaned to the sink cupboard behind them. From time to time either of them sniffed. Their faces splotched and wet with each others tears and their own. Hermione's sweater had a wet stain on her chest, where she had held his head. Both of them felt exhausted. She threw him a look. He was slumped over, staring at his limp hands in his lap. His long legs stretched out, almost reaching the kitchen island. Her feet were not even close. She felt raw inside, despite him sharing that awful, heart-wrenching memory. He had been forced to kill a child or be killed himself. She wondered what she would have done. Would she have spared Samantha? According to Draco she had been tortured and would not have made it much longer under the tender care of the Death Eaters. And Draco had been merciful. He'd made it quick and painless. He'd said he'd done it to save his own life, but she wondered whether he had ever realised or thought about that he'd spared Samantha from more torture and quite possibly a horrifically painful death. Hermione had had a very close view of Bellatrix' face when she had been tortured and despite Bellatrix being terrified about what they had possibly taken from her vault, Hermione had seen the almost aroused gleam in her eye, whenever Hermione lost the internal fight and screamed because of the pain.

"I am sorry about your sweater." His mumbled, slightly nasal apology roused her from her thoughts. Softly she nudged his shoulder with hers.

"It's OK. I'm a witch, you know." Both chuckled weakly.

"If you want to leave, I'll talk to Dean McPherson. No penalties will be placed on you for leaving your contract." Surprised she turned to him.

"Why would I leave? Because of what you told me? Because of Samantha?" Slowly he nodded.

"Yes. Sometime even I can't stand to be in a room with myself." He rubbed his face with his hands, leaning his head back and stared at the ceiling. Turning to him, she took a minute to collect her thoughts.

"Draco, I can't say that your confession didn't shock me. But I couldn't say that I wouldn't have done the same. What were your options? Leaving Samantha in the hands of Death Eaters? You said she was hurting and terrified. I believe you. I know exactly how she felt." Breathing deeply, she took his face in her hands and made him look her in the eye. "I will have to think about this. I am not sure what to think right now. What I know for certain is that despite all the darkness that touched you, you managed to become a decent, good man. That you feel so much guilt and pain about Samantha's death just proves it." She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes, yet another tear trailing down his cheek.

"I don't deserve a friend like you." He whispered. Shaking her head, she sat back on her haunches.

"Yes, Draco, you do. You could have given up, you could have simply locked yourself away and become what they wanted you to be, but you didn't. Your fight was personal and subtle, but you did fight back." He raised his head, brushing his hand under his nose. His mother would be appalled.

"Thank you." A tired smile tugged at his lips. Her face was contemplative.

"Draco, did you see a therapist after the war?" Pulling up one leg, he let his arm rest on his knee, looked to the ceiling and chuckled darkly.

"Oh yes. They made me in Azkaban. Some of the healers were very interested in all the muggle disciplines of psychotherapy. Especially profiling. All convicted Death Eaters were made to attend 'sessions' with self-proclaimed therapists. When I demanded to see their credentials, they told me that I had relinquished any such rights when I joined the Dark Lord's cause." Shocked she stared at him.

"What?" She asked stunned. He nodded seriously.

"Think about it, Hermione. You have a prison full of people, who will never again see the light of day and who the general public just want to forget exist. Enter the eager scientists." Sarcasm was dripping from each syllable. Swallowing Hermione wondered how to approach her request now. Adele had suggested she'd ask whether Draco would attend a session with her. Much of what Hermione was working through at the moment was connected to him. Also because of the attraction she had begun feeling for him. Careful she adjusted her sweater and took a deep breath.

"I was talking to my therapist when you walked in. She is a muggle and a certified professional. Not someone who just read a few books and calls himself one. She has been praciticing for thirty years and is well respected in her profession." Curious he sat up more comfortably and met her eyes.

She seemed to be leading up to something and he had a vague idea what it was. He wagered she wanted to talk him into seeing the same therapist she was. On the surface it wasn't a bad idea and intellectually he agreed. He needed someone to talk to, who would give him perspective on what he'd seen and experienced, but emotionally it was a whole other story. Anything concerning the mind and its possible alteration made him very cautious. Not only because of the experiments that had been conducted on him during his incarceration, but also because one of the Dark Lord's preferred punishments was to invade your mind and pull on every string he found. Like a curious child, he would just claw through everything and it often ended in the victims losing their minds. He would also make you do things.

Luckily for Draco, he had been trained in occlumency since childhood. One of the rare things he was ever thankful for when it came to his father. Among the many, many classes he would have to take in between school terms, occlumency was the one stressed the most. So he had never been a victim of that particular brand of torture.

"She sounds competent." He commented neutrally. Hermione nodded and nibbled her lower lip. Something she did when nervous, he'd discovered. It was also very distracting for him. He was still conflicted about pursuing her, but he could not deny that he was definitely attracted to her. Physically, emotionally and on a mental level. He admired her mind as much as her body. Her brains were sexy to him and he found it to be satisfying and relaxing to have a conversation partner who could keep up. Something he found rarely. And none of those had ever interested him beyond a platonic relationship. What he wanted with Hermione was anything but platonic.

"You have come up in my sessions." She confessed and he pulled his head back in surprise, hitting it on the cupboard behind him. Scratching the back of his head, he took her in with wide eyes.

"Me?" He asked. Thinking about it, it made sense. Of course she would talk about him, since he had been the main source of derogatory comments thrown her way. It puzzled him though that he still was a topic. From what she had shared, it seemed as if she had been seeing a therapist ever since the war ended. He would have believed that his influence on her life and the negative impact he'd had on it would have been dealt with by now.

"Yes. I feel a bit...uncomfortable talking about this..." She confessed shyly, again nibbling her lower lip.

"I am sorry that I am still such a negative influence in your life." He apologised. Frowning she needed a moment, but when she understood, she quickly raised her hands and shook her head.

"No, not like that. It's about...hm...about how my perception and reaction has changed." Her cheeks were glowing red by now. Draco's mouth hung open in a most unbecoming way and was happy that her gaze was directed at her wringing hands. His head was reeling with what this might imply. Could it be that she was romantically interested? Even now? After hearing his confession? He tried to examine these thoughts, but after the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on since this morning, there was no chance of that. Clearing his throat and wrestling his hopeful impulses under control, he settled into a more comfortable position. It wouldn't do to get his hopes up. She'd just said that her perception had changed. He couldn't assume that it was the change he wanted.

"Oh." Was his only reply. Oh was nice and neutral.

"Yes. Adele would like for us to have a session together. If you do not want to, I fully understand. I won't force you into doing anything." She said seriously. "And even if you do decide to do this, you can stop the session at any time."

Mulling this over, he couldn't deny that being in a room again with a therapist elicited fear in him. His experiences overshadowing her assurances. However her therapist was a muggle. She wouldn't be able to restrain him by magical means or try to use legilimency to forcefully discover what was in his mind. It calmed him as well that it was to be on a voluntary basis. Apparently he would be able to leave at any time.

"Is that normal? You inviting me to your session?" He asked, curious. His sessions had been involuntary and as such, he had no real idea, what true therapy looked like. She shook her head slightly.

"Not really. Adele noticed that I kept mentioning you. I tried to explain our past and how we got here. I...I ran into walls all the time. I just couldn't explain myself properly. Adele asked me if there was something that would help and I laughed and said you. It's unorthodox and when I said that I would ask you, she was surprised, but she is willing to make the experiment. Which is why, if you agree to come, she will most likely have a stack of papers for you to sign. They are confidentiality agreements. It means that what is discussed can't be repeated to anyone. Adele will not talk about anything we discuss with anybody else. The authorities cannot force her to talk about our sessions, unless they have a special order from court. This applies to magical court as well. A provision that was made by the international congress of the Wizengamot upon Shacklebolt's urging before he ever asked for the muggle prime minister to send psychological assistance." She was ranting by now, rubbing her hands, since his expression didn't change and he wasn't speaking. "Please say something." She croaked. Looking down, he clapped his legs and rose. Offering her a hand, he pulled her up carefully.

"I will think about it." He said, smiling softly and taking a chance in caressing her cheek. "Thank you. For asking. For taking the chance." Smiling she turned into his hand.

"Thank you. For trusting me and for considering my request." She said softly and kissed his hand. Gazing into each others eyes, they relaxed and felt a moment of peace. It was short, sweet and poignant. And full of promise. It made their hearts feel lighter, their breathing easier and the butterflies taking flight bigger. Clasping their hands, they fixed their faces by passing their free hands over them a few times and making their way back to the dining room. Frowning they looked around.

"Where are Jane and Blaise?" Hermione asked and looked down the hallway. Maybe they had left, which she thought was highly improbable. Blaise would still be here to provide Draco with support, if he should need it. He would have never left without checking on his best friend. Draco had let go of her hand and was checking the foyer.

"Their coats are still here." He commented. He turned and saw that one of his books was lying in a tumble on his wingback chair. His breathing hitched. He loved each of the volumes on his wall and that one of them had been thrown so cavalierly angered him on one hand and had him fighting the impulse to run over and check it for any damage on the other. With long strides, he made his way into the living room. Hermione followed, since she believed he'd found an indication of where Jane and Blaise had gone. And they did find them. Snogging heavily on the sofa. With wide eyes they looked from each other to the couple lip-locked on the cushions. For some reason it was intensely comical and both Hermione and Draco had to bite their lips to keep from laughing. Draco cleared his throat loudly. Jane froze, while Blaise simply continued. Not for long though, since she kept pushing his hands to more innocent areas and turned her face away from his. Chuckling Blaise kept going. He knew full well that Draco and Hermione were there, but he enjoyed Jane's wriggling and attempts to appear not as dishevelled too much. In the end, Jane resorted to actually hitting him. That got his attention.

"Cut it out!" She hissed at him and sat back up. "Hi." She gave a limp wave, while blushing a deep red. Draco inclined his head, a controlled smile on his face, while Hermione had to turn away, her back hitching in her muffled laughter. Blaise sat up as well, adjusting his shirt and threw his old friend a cocky smile.

"Hey there, Draco. Didn't hear you coming in." He drawled. Jane threw him a suspicious glance. She didn't believe him for a minute. That man could hear her oven clock's ding while in the shower and the water being on full blast. He was aware of his surroundings twentyfour-seven, so him not hearing the other two enter, especially since all the floors were hardwood, was bullshit. Narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend, she made the decision. Chains it would be. He'd made his bed, now she would make him lie in it. Apparently Draco didn't buy the innocent act either.

"Of course you didn't. Did you disrespect my books again." Anger was now clearly on Draco's face, as he pointed accusingly at the tome on the wingback chair. Hermione noticed it now too and with concern written all over her face, she carefully picked it up, checking it for damage.

"Blaise! How could you!" She scolded him. "This is a priceless work of knowledge. And it doesn't even belong to you! How would you feel if I stomped all over the bristles of your favourite broom?" Blaise sat up at this.

"Don't even joke about that, Hermione." He warned. Jane hit him in the shoulder again.

"Hermione's right, Blaise. And I was looking at that too. Draco, this collection is amazing." Draco took the book from Hermione, checking it himself as well for damage.

"Some of the pages are bent a little, but they should straighten out, if you press it for a few days. I've bent them back." Hermione told him, closing her hand over his on the cover. Breathing deep in relief, he nodded and returned the book to its spot on the shelf. He offered Hermione the wingback chair, waved his wand and the tea and coffee flew over from the dining room, settling softly on the couch table.

"Thank you, Jane. I started collecting when I was young and had the advantage of my family's library to draw from as well." Draco explained and handed Jane a refilled cup of coffee. As the proper host he was, he made sure that his guests all received refilled cups of their chosen beverage. When handing Hermione her cup, he let his fingers linger on hers. The image of her in his chair was as enticing to him as the one of her this morning in his kitchen. Blaise watched their interaction and if there ever had been a question of whether Draco was interested in Hermione, it was answered now. More than once, Draco had thrown him from that chair. His friend didn't like anyone sitting in that chair. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger apparently.

"Would you be willing to loan me one or two of them?" Jane asked hopefully. "For research. I am working on a new paper about magical and muggle cooperation after the implementation of the statute of secrecy. How much overlap was there? Did the research cooperation have any influence on muggle technology? Most scholars assume that any and all contact was severed as soon as the statute became law, but I think that is highly unlikely." Interested Hermione leaned forward, putting her cup down.

"A fascinating topic." She said, thinking about the possible implications. Draco seemed intrigued as well.

"A worthy topic, truly. However my books..." He lovingly looked to his collection.

"I will be very careful, I promise." Jane assured. "Blaise wanted attention and I was concentrating on something besides him." Frowning, Blaise looked to her.

"Hey!" He said a little insulted. She only waved him off. Raising an eyebrow, Blaise looked to Hermione for help. She took a prim sip from her tea and raised an eyebrow back at him. Grumbling he sat back and nursed his tea. Grinning Draco took his friend in. He liked Jane and thought she was good for his friend. She had him pegged pretty well and wouldn't take his bullshitting.

"Very well. As long as you promise not to let Blaise near any of them and to store them in a secure location." Eagerly Jane nodded. Before long, Draco had sat down in the chair next to the couch and was deep in discussion about the books Jane would like to borrow. Blaise had crossed his legs, watching their conversation with a smile. He was glad his best friend and girlfriend were getting along so well. He had hoped they would, since Blaise was sure, after having spent some time with Draco again, that his friend would need him around. Someone he could trust and confide in. And to drag Draco's sorry arse out on the town for fun a time or two.

Scooting over to the armrest, he leaned into it and closer to Hermione. She was watching the exchange between Draco and Jane with a smile as well.

"Is Draco OK?" Blaise asked in a low voice. He'd heard how their discussion in the kitchen had gotten intense fast. Hermione looked into his eyes, seemingly surprised.

"He told you? About...Samantha?" She asked carefully. All levity left his face, when he nodded, throwing Draco a glance.

"Yes. He was drinking, letting himself go and I tried to pull him out of his funk. When I had to pick him up from some dive after he'd drunken himself half to death for the third time, I put my foot down. Asking him what the hell was wrong with him. We talked for hours. I missed training and an important game, but to hell with that. My coach was furious when I wouldn't tell him what I had been up to." Blaise chuckled darkly. "Wanker. I won him numerous games, never got out of hand and had no trouble with the fans or players from the other teams ever. Still he didn't trust me." Shaking his head, he let go of that old grudge with a deep breath.

"I hoped that he'd told someone else." Hermione said softly. He nodded, staring into his cup.

"It's not easy for him. Sharing isn't done in his family, so getting him to talk can sometimes be hard. I can be stubborn though." He looked up at her with a small smile. She wore a sad smile as well and both looked to Draco.

"I've invited him to attend one of my sessions. I hope it will help him as well. Maybe even convince him to see a real therapist himself." His eyebrows rose higher in surprise.

"He told you about that too?" It amazed him that Draco had shared that. When Draco had told him, it was only because of the alcohol involved and the morose mood he'd been in. Not even during his time with Voldemort had Draco felt that helpless and vulnerable. With the Death Eaters he'd at least had a wand and was able to fight back. Not so in Azkaban when he had to 'volunteer' for research purposes. At her nod, he considered it. Due to Draco's experiences in Azkaban, Blaise was sceptical about therapists now as well, but with Hermione there, his friend would be safe. It would take a lot to deceive the smartest witch of their age. If she said the therapist was safe, then Blaise was prepared to trust her.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: Thanks again for all the support and the great reviews. Sorry that it took me some time to update. Work got in the way and some great family news. :D Unfortunately more work is being piled on top of me. I'll try to get more out to you asap. Please read and review. I would like to know your thoughts. Have a good one!**

Chapter 20

The mood had lightened again among the group and after the dining table was cleared of the majority of food, Draco spread out the files they had on the team members. Jane was sitting a bit separate from them, a few of Draco's books open in front of her and a notebook ready under her right hand. Notes were already filling the pages. Blaise had asked her if she needed anything, to which she'd only muttered unintelligibly and waved her hand. Draco and Hermione had looked to Blaise for a translation.

"She's fine. We just need to put a pot of coffee and a cup close to her and she's set. She's in her own world when working." He smiled proudly. Draco and Hermione exchanged an amused glance. Clearing his throat, Draco pointed to the list in front of him.

"The first competition is going to be in six weeks. We need to finalise the teams, so that they can be registered with the committee. I'd like to field three traditional and freestyle teams. The traditional teams will consist of a duelist, support and a second. The freestyle teams will be two duellists with support and I am not sure yet about the seconding. Whether we assign set seconds or enter the remaining team members as a group of seconds. That way we can be flexible in switching and adapting to the other team's tactics." He looked to the two others. Both were considering his words, flipping through the charts and notes each had made on the different team members.

"Will form be judged in the traditional duelling as well?" Blaise asked. Draco nodded, while Hermione frowned.

"Form?" She asked confused. Both men looked to her. Blaise indicated for Draco to explain, while he sorted through his notes again. Since form was being judged as well, he would have to rethink his suggestions.

"In traditional duelling the execution of the spell is as important as the duel itself. As you know from experience, the execution of the spell and the placement of feet and arms is not the first thing on your mind when in the heat of battle. It doesn't matter that the battle is a formal duel. Most fall back on the short-cuts they found while performing spells, counters and curses over the years. Getting duellists back to the traditional forms and maintainig them while under pressure is what makes traditional duelling such a difficult discipline." He explained. Hermione nodded, remembering the many short-cuts she'd discovered and adopted to her spells over time.

"So the team members have to basically relearn all their spells." She mused, looking at her notes. This changed the dynamics and her suggestions somewhat. Considering what Draco had said, she wondered how she would do in a traditional duelling setting. While her stances were not as outlandish as some she'd seen, they were far from the original ones.

"I would suggest Sabrina Maidwater as duellist, George Northwood as support and Jamal Smith as second. I'd like to have a female duellist right out the gate and Jamal still needs a bit of training before he can effectively be a first-tier candidate." Draco had drawn up a list and graph on a fresh piece of parchment. As soon as they were in agreement, he would fill out the roster. Fountain pen poised, he looked to the others. Blaise checked his files.

"Sabrina is a good choice and I have to agree on Jamal. He has solid wandwork, but his stances need adjusting. Maidwater was hoping for a placement on the freestyle team and before the form thing came in, I would have agreed. She is fast, but among all of them, she still maintains the traditional stances most consistently." Draco nodded, while penning in Sabrina's name and Jamal's. He looked to Hermione.

"I agree as well. Sabrina has an excellent grasp of spells, but I would suggest Francis Griffton as support. He is among the best of the class and will be able to help the most. Especially if you want to switch up Jamal more often to give him more experience." She pointed to her notes, where she had already made a list of her students and their strengths and weaknesses. Contemplative Draco scratched his chin and nodded in the end.

"Good idea. Blaise?" He turned to his friend. Zabini had pulled out Francis' file.

"I would have paired him with duellists not as experienced, but yes. He is one of the best when it comes to tactics. I assume that this first team is supposed to raise a few eyebrows?" He asked cheekily. Draco rolled his eyes at his antics, leaned back and took a sip of his tea.

"Our first team will send a signal, yes, but I also want to have the best teams we can possibly put together." He explained. Hermione smiled at that explanation. It proved that Draco didn't just want to put on a show, but wanted his team to perform well as a whole. As he looked over to her as if to ask her if she agreed, she gave a small nod and a warm smile. A small smile touched his mouth and it seemed to relax his features.

Over the next few hours they continued their discussions and setting the first roster. It might change after the first competition, depending on how well their team members meshed. Also, while most of the team members got along during classes and training, tempers could quickly clash in a tense situation. Hermione made an impassioned plea for Francesca and Keisha to be paired as the first women only freestyle duelling team. Blaise was sceptical, but Draco was prepared to listen to her arguments. He pointed out that most freestyle duellists liked to get close and personal and that this might intimidate the two girls, but Hermione waved that off.

"They've faced much worse and I am quite sure that they know exactly to deal with frat boys getting too close." She'd simply said. In the end Draco had folded and set both girls as a freestyle team. Both men knew that the girls could handle themselves when they had a bit of distance to work with. What worried them more were the reactions of the Southie boys, if the girls should get in trouble. But discipline was another thing they would tackle within the next weeks. And Blaise had a great idea how to do that. But first he had to talk Draco into his next freestyle match-up. Namely Lorelei and James. Draco wanted James and Emilio as a team, since they knew each other well and had destroyed the hopefuls during the try-outs. But Lorelei had a calmer temperament and that meshed better with James' brooding intensity. Emilio could get riled up easily and instead of bringing him back down, James would simmer along beneath the surface. The boys would just push each other higher and higher. Emilio needed someone more grounded to keep his head in the game. It was decided he would be paired with Gunter Pollenweber, a former German exchange student, who had chosen to stay at Salem University to finish his hydroponic herbology degree. Gunter was so calm he sometimes seemed like a modern day Buddha...or asleep. His quick-fire answers in Hermione's classes proved though that he was aware and awake. Emilio also seemed to like Gunter, though their interactions had been limited due to their diverging interests.

Stretching, Blaise leaned back in his chair and took a glimpse at his watch. With a grimace he noted that it was already half past five. So much for spending a relaxing day with his girlfriend. Speaking of, he looked to said girlfriend. She was looking with a deep frown at one of the old, dusty books Draco treated as if they were jewels. Sighing he pondered how he would talk her into leaving those things behind, so that they could head out for a bite to eat and then to her place. While he was still considering what to do, Hermione let out a gasp and attracted all their attention.

"Is that the time?" She said. Draco looked to his own watch and sighed.

"I am so sorry. I didn't think it would take us this long." He apologised. "May I invite you all to dinner?" This had Jane look up from her studies. She felt a little peckish. Dinner sounded nice. Before she could reply though, Blaise answered for her.

"Sorry, mate, but I had something special planned for Jane and myself." He expanded grandly. Frowning she tried to remember. Had he said anything about a special dinner? Not that she could remember. Apparently Draco didn't believe Blaise either, since he raised an incredulous eyebrow at his friend. Hermione didn't notice, since she was in the process of packing up her notes.

"I couldn't possibly take up more of your time, Draco. Besides, wouldn't you like a bit of rest and quiet after the long week?" Hermione asked, after stashing her organiser back in her bag. What she really meant was whether he wouldn't like to be left alone for a bit after the emotional wringer he'd been through since this morning. She gathered though that he wouldn't want his private business aired in front of a new acquaintance. He waved her off.

"Nonsense. I have taken up a lot of your free time and the least I can do is to apologise by taking you to dinner. I would offer to cook myself, but I am afraid I have no ingredients on hand. I only went shopping for the brunch." He hoped she would say yes. Since Blaise had already declined on his and Jane's behalf, he could show her how a real first date should be like. Not that this was a date. For him, maybe, but not for her. Or maybe he should ask her? But surely it was too soon after what he'd revealed this morning. Better to just take her out to dinner as a friend and colleague, wait a few weeks and then ask her properly. For now though, a dinner as friends was all he could have. That didn't mean he couldn't treat her to a special meal at _La Sorcière de la cuisine_. It was a wonderful restaurant he had frequented quite often and it provided absolute privacy. He didn't want anyone to think anything untoward was going on between them and no one liked to gossip more than the bored upper classes. Be it in Brittain or the United States.

Blaise had already collected his and Jane's coat and had to physically pull her away from the books. She cast them another longing glance, before putting the notebook away in her bag and hesitantly touching one of the tomes in front of her.

"Could I borrow this? I promise that I will take very good care of it." She asked Draco tentatively. With a kind smile, he closed the book and placed it in her hands.

"Yes, you may. Just remember that the uncultured lout you call boyfriend is not to be left alone with it. Or to touch it." Draco winked, while Jane giggled. Blaise crossed his arms and glowered at his best friend.

"Ha ha. You think you're so funny. Come on, Jane. We should get going or we'll miss our reservation." Blaise groused. There actually wasn't a reservation, but he intended to fix that asap. On the other hand, he was well-known by now to most better establishments and could wander into just about any restaurant and get seated immediately. Jane threw him a suspicious glance, but didn't comment and said her goodbyes to Hermione instead.

"It was great meeting you. I hope we can get together sometime for coffee?" Jane asked hopefully. She found Hermione interesting and while none of her friends were dummies, it was nice to be able to talk to someone and immediately be understood and even challenged. Hermione smiled.

"I would like that. I look forward to reading your paper. The premise sounds fascinating." Hermione assured her and Jane smiled widely. They shook hands and Blaise laid his arm around her shoulders.

"Have a nice dinner, we're out." He said by way of a goodbye and almost dragged an apologising Jane out the door. Chuckling Hermione shook her head and turned to Draco with a soft smile. He on the other hand had retrieved a dark blue jacket and was in the process of putting it on.

"Draco, it's ok. I can just whip up something at home." She tried. He shook his head.

"Sorry, but no. You helped me with brunch, I ruined your sweater and the mood and then I managed to monopolise your entire Saturday with work. Dinner is the least I can do." He offered his arm with a charming smile. Blushing despite herself at his banter and polished manners, she accepted the arm he offered. She had already pulled on her camel hair coat, pulled her bag onto her other shoulder and together they left his apartment.

xXx

The front door of the restaurant was an unassuming dark, almost maroon red, wooden door. Only a small sign over the door in the charming cobblestone street advertised the _La Sorcière de la cuisine_. Hermione was sceptical, until Draco gallantly held the door open for her and she stepped inside. Patterned blue-green Morris wallpaper and varnished oak panelling, along with thick Persian carpets gave the entrance an intimate, old time feel. A dapper young man in a black waistcoat and white shirt greeted them and Draco requested a private dining room for them in flawless French. Raising an eyebrow, Hermione smiled up at him.

"Fluent French, Mr Malfoy?" She asked. Chuckling he again offered his arm, as the young man led them down a hallway lit by Tiffany lamps.

"Bien sur, Mademoiselle Granger." He winked. "My family's roots are in France. Learning French was par for the course. As well as spending at least a week there every summer. While I appreciate the variety Paris offers, I am still partial to Lyon. Mainly because our ancestral estate is located there." A melancholic smile was on his face. She bumped him in the shoulder.

"Still showing off, Mr Malfoy." Fake tutting, she shook her head. It had the intended effect though and elicited a chuckle from him. The waiter opened a door for them and were let into a cozy room with a brick fireplace, a table for two with a white table cloth, heavy silver cutlery and crystal glasses. A big painting of a serene glade with a view of the ocean in the background dominated one wall. The other had a beautiful cabinet with a large bouquet of wildflowers on it. While Draco had a muttered conversation with the waiter and helped Hermione out of her coat, she stepped into the room with a bright smile.

"Oh Draco, this is wonderful." She exclaimed and turned to him. Smiling at her, he handed over her coat and his jacket to the waiter, who promptly disappeared.

"I am glad you like it. I have dined here many times. They always make sure that you have absolute privacy if you request it. There is a main dining room, but I thought you would prefer this." He indiated the room with a sweep of his arms. Sighing in content, she nodded, still studying the room. He pulled the chair out for her and waited patiently. Despite her brain still being undecided about whether a romantic relationship with Draco was a good idea or even in the cards, her heart had other ideas. Her stomach tingled with the feeling of butterflies taking flight and she blushed at his respectful treatment of her. Sitting in the offered chair, she waited for him to take the seat opposite her.

"Thank you and yes, I prefer a more private setting. I'd never have known this was here." She settled her hands in her lap. Smiling he took her in. The candle and fire light gave her skin a golden glow and her eyes were shining almost amber. Controlling his urge to simply stare and take her beauty in, he cleared his throat.

"Took me some time to find it. _La Sorcière_ doesn't advertise. It is strictly word of mouth. The menu is excellent and they have a great wine cellar." The door opened while Draco was talking and the young waiter returned to them, holding a wine bottle up for them to read the label. Draco nodded and the waiter removed the cork by tapping it with his wand. He offered it to Draco, but he indicated that Hermione should smell it. Taking a whiff, she smiled brightly and nodded. The wine was decanted and they left it to breathe for a few minutes, while the waiter informed them about the menu and the kitchen's recommendations. In the end they decided on differing menus, so that they would have the most variety.

Over the next two hours they indulged in delicious French food, excellent bottles of wine and relaxed conversation ranging from politics over literature to ancient runes and arithmancy. Their table had long been cleared of the last food, but Draco had ordered another bottle of wine because he didn't want the evening to end. Leaning on the table and supporting her head in her palm, Hermione turned her wineglass by its stem, looking into Draco's eyes.

"There is something I've been meaning to ask you." She said. Grinning he copied her pose. Their faces were very close now and he saw she still had some the freckles he remembered from their school days.

"Yes?" He asked, his voice having dropped a bit. She managed to suppress the shiver his deeper pitch elicited in her.

"How come you are such a great traditional duellist, while Harry, I and even Ron managed to get the drop on you back in the day?" She raised an eyebrow and the twinkle in her eye made it clear she meant it in jest. He mock gasped.

"I could tell you, but it is a secret and you have to swear never to reveal it to anyone." He winked. Settling her face into a serious mask, she crossed her chest with her fingers, holding them up. Confused he took her hand in.

"What does that mean?" He asked. Laughing she set her chin back into her palm.

"It's a muggle thing. It means that I cross my heart and hope to die, before I divulge your secret." Raising his eyebrows he stared past her.

"That's...serious." He finally said. She snorted and immediately lifted her hand to cover her mouth. Chuckling he took her in. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the wine and the warmth of the fire. Her eyes glittering in laughter and he felt as if his chest was lighter than ever. He actually felt hope for the first time in a long time.

"In answer to your question, I could have easily beaten all of you. Well, maybe not you, but Potter and most definitely Weasley. However the Dark Lord would have noticed and forced me to use that skill for his own ends. I only trained with Blaise, my father, my mother or Snape. None of whom would have given me away to the Dark Lord." Mulling this over, she again turned the wineglass by his stem.

"Did you already start your cunning ruse in second year then?" She cheekily asked. Both chuckled and he shook his head.

"No. In fact it was the loss to Potter which prompted my father to insist I receive proper training. It was the first time I was eager for more classes. I don't know if you noticed, but I didn't like not being the best." They shared an amicable silence for a while. A strand of her hair hung over her cheek and it itched in his fingers to tuck it behind her ear. Gripping his leg, he fought down the urge. The waiter entered and asked if they wanted anything else. Draco looked to her, but she waved off.

"Everything was wonderful but I couldn't possibly eat any more." The waiter smiled at her praise.

"Not even a crème caramel?" He asked enticingly. Humming she closed her eyes.

"Don't tempt me. I am already about to burst." She complained. Draco smiled and turned to the waiter.

"Thank you, but we are finished. Would you be so kind as to bring the bill." The waiter gave a little bow and left. Hermione sighed and sat back. She found that she didn't want the evening to end. It was such a far cry from the time she's spent with Peter. If she had to describe both evenings, she would have to say that yesterday was the worst date ever, while this one was just perfect. Wonderful food, easy conversation and brilliant company. But was this a date? He hadn't said it was, but the atmosphere...and the way he looked at her...but she was still conflicted. Ugh! She definitely needed to talk to Ginny and Adele.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Sunday morning rolled around and the Duelling Hall was uncommonly quiet. Normally at this time of day, a few of the team were either already awake to train or still up from studying. This morning though, all team members were still hugging their pillows. The last few weeks had been exhausting. While some enjoyed the challenge, others hoped that the strain would lessen or they may well have to drop out of the program. Lorelei was one of the first to roll out of her bed. In comfy jammies and a tank top, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. This one was a far cry from the one in her old dorm. This kitchen was a chef's dream. Everything shiny and new. And it had one of those fancy coffee machines that could basically do everything. However there was also an old fashioned coffee maker next to it. Most of them used the old fashioned coffee machine during the week, but since it was the weekend, Lorelei decided she would indulge and got herself a steaming latte machiato. Humming in delight, she took a sip. Shuffling to the cupboards, she rooted around, until she found the toast and started making some breakfast for herself.

"Morning." The low rumble had her almost jump and turn around quickly. James was standing in the doorway. He was also clothed comfortably in track pants and a t-shirt. Sighing she hit him on the bicep, when he stepped closer.

"For someone as big as you, you sure move as silent as a cat." She complained. He only shrugged.

"My gran doesn't like noise." He responded, but didn't explain further. Unlike the others, Lorelei didn't mind that James was tight-lipped. He was private and she could respect that. Besides, they weren't exactly friends. Sure, they had trained together and sometimes even studied together, but apart from that, they'd hardly shared more than a few sentences concerning their private lives. She wouldn't even know where to begin a discussion.

"Want some toast as well, James?" She asked politely, while putting hers into the toaster. James shook his head and pulled out a pot.

"No, thank you. I'm making porridge. You want any?" Her face pulled into a disgusted grimace at this. His face didn't change expression. He simply waited for her response.

"Ah, no. Thanks for asking." Shrugging, he turned back to the pot he'd put on the stove and poured milk he'd taken from the fridge into it. Lorelei proceeded to get some jam and other spreads from the fridge. Setting it on the kitchen island, she sat on one of the high chairs next to it, took her cup and took another sip. Sighing in appreciation, she relaxed and looked out the window. The day promised to be filled with sunshine and she thought about what she'd be doing today. The last weeks had taken a toll on her as all the others. She'd needed the day in yesterday, but today she was in the mood for a bit of more active relaxation. Maybe she'd grab her broom and go for a bit of flying. She hadn't been in ages.

"Do you play quidditch?" She asked James, who was preparing his breakfast next to her. Slowly and carefully stirring the pot with the milk. He shook his head. Astonished she collected her warmed toast and put more into the toaster. "You serious?! A man who doesn't play quidditch. Hold the presses! I need to get my calendar and make a notation. This is big news." She laid it on a bit thick, but it had the desired effect. Namely a chuckle from the quiet man. He threw her an amused glance and raised an eyebrow.

"I like the sport just like any man. Flying isn't a good idea in our neighbourhood. Too close to muggles." He explained. Confused she spread a bit of jam on her toast.

"So? Lots of muggles around my neighbourhood too. We still had a quidditch pitch where everyone could play or simply take a flight around." He shrugged and poured the oat flakes into the heated milk.

"After a gang took over our pitch, the city stopped funding and maintaining the muggle repellant charms. Anyone caught on a broom is fined. Fine's so high, none of us could ever afford it. So we stopped playing." He explained in his neutral tone. She was aghast at this, but he explained it, as if it was no big deal. Probably because for him it wasn't. It was simply a fact of life. Clearing her throat and shaking her head, she put her toast down.

"Alright. That settles it. You're coming flying with me." She nodded to herself. Frowning he turned to her, still stirring the pot behind him on auto-pilot.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why?" She stared at him agog. "To get you out of your head! Feel the rush of air, the freedom of it!" She explained passionately. He grunted, shook his head and turned back to his pot.

"Thanks, but no. I've got a lot of studying to do." Groaning she ruffled her hair.

"All of us have a lot of studying to do. But constantly studying doesn't help. You need to clear your head from time to time or nothing will stick. Trust me." Expectantly she waited for him to respond.

"Thanks again, but I have a lot more catching up to do. Maybe next year. If I make it that long." He pulled the porridge from the hob and spooned it onto a plate. A dollop of honey was the only sweetener he put on. She heroically ignored the grey paste which didn't look like anything edible.

"What do you mean if you make it that long? Of course you will. You're doing great!" She tried to cheer him up.

"In duelling, maybe. In classes not so much. I am working on about four to three hours of sleep a night. I'm used to hard work and not much sleep, but this is different. My jobs didn't require much. Here I have to be alert and observant all the time. Straining." Looking at the porridge, James decided he wanted a little crunch and fetched an apple and a knife. Quickly he had the apple sliced into small slices, mixing them into the porridge with his spoon. Lorelei watched him, chewed on her toast and pondered his words.

She had been fortunate and never truly had to work to earn a living. Sure, she'd taken small jobs to complement her allowance, but she'd never been dependant on a job. And what James said was very true. The small jobs she'd held were repetitive and didn't require much attention if you'd done it a few times, you pretty much went on auto pilot. Even if he'd held more than one of those jobs, it wouldn't be exhausting mentally. Being in class was a whole different ball game. Especially if you had a lot of catching up to do. You had to pay attention and concentrate all the time. She knew from experience that after about half an hour her ability to concentrate started to dip and she would forget or miss stuff.

"We can always team up, you know. I know for a fact that most are taking turns in taking notes during class. Or to compare their notes later, when they study or work on assignments." She offered. James looked up from his breakfast, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

"We're already doing that." He pointed out. Lorelei shook her head and got up to get another coffee. She lifted her cup in question at him and he shook his head.

"That's nice and all, but it won't help. You need to find somebody who's already ahead of you. They learn more by explaining it to you and you learn quicker by having stuff explained to you, who's on the same level." She pointed out. Mulling this over, he set down his bowl.

"Would you? Study with us?" He seemed a little surprised. Taking her cup and sitting back down, she nodded and blew on her latte.

"Sure. We're all part of the team, right? Besides, you're serious about this whole thing. Some of the others think this is a lark. Like being on the quidditch team. If we were just training to duel, sure, but with all the other stuff, I get a different vibe."

"Me too. I'm doing this for the degree I'll be able to get though. I overheard the guards talking after Professor Granger's class and the whole program is apparently designed to train new, better guards. I've seen enough violence. Don't need more of it." His face darkened a bit. She nodded, but kept still. She had surmised that the Southies may have had bad experiences. Hell, news about muggings, drug deals and murders in South Salem were almost daily occurences.

"I get it. But on the other hand, I think this is a good idea. Just think about it. A guard trained as a duellist would be a great asset. Count in the fact, that they'll be passable potioneers as well and they'll be much better prepared to deal with some of the creeps running around. I for one am seriously thinking about sticking with this and maybe even switching my majors. My parents will have conniptions, but it seems a worthy cause." She sat a little straighter, waiting for him to talk her out of it, just like almost all her friends had done, when she'd voiced her intentions. He only nodded. Surprised she waited for more, but nothing came.

"You're not trying to talk me out of it?" She blurted out at last. His lips twisted again in his minimalist smile.

"Why would I? It's your decision, your life. And I'm not your father." At the last he winked, startling a laugh from her. They continued their breakfast and when they were finishing up and cleaning the kitchen, some of the others trickled in. Soon the discussion turned to the good weather and the question of when they would hit the quidditch pitch. When James declined again, all the others teamed up to convince him to come.

"Listen, man. Studying all the time will only make you tense and that means you won't retain any of the stuff you tried cramming. Trust me, I tried that." Gunter pointed out. Francis nodded next to him.

"Yeah, James. Relaxation is important. Taking a break for a few hours won't kill you and I'll help with studying later. Deal?" James looked at the hand Francis offered and then to the others around him. It surprised him that all these people were so eager for him to relax and have a good time. Especially since he knew maybe two or three of them better. None of them were his friends. Hesitantly he took Francis' hand.

"Deal." He mumbled and got swept away with the rest, who were storming upstairs to change and fetch their brooms.

"You can fly on mine, if you want." Francis offered. "I'll play if someone picks me for their team, but that happens only rarely. I like flying, but not quidditch. I flinch when the ball gets thrown my way." James inclined his head.

"Good reflex in general. Who would want to get hit by a quaffle in the face?" He asked sardonically. Francis chuckled, having become used to James' brand of humour.

"See you outside in a minute. I'll get my broom and ask the others if they want to come as well. Maybe Jamal, Francesca or Keisha would like to fly as well. Emilio went for a run, I think." Francis called over his shoulder, while walking briskly to his room. James nodded and went to his own room to put on some shoes and a t-shirt. Maybe a few hours just relaxing would be helpful. The others had more experience in these matters and heeding their advice seemed only logical.

 **Author's note: I am sorry for my long absence. I had to travel for work and was then doing catch-up when I got back to my regular job. I realise it's not much currently, but I am finally getting time to write again. :) I'll have more soon. Have a good one. ;)**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Due to the good weather the campus was filled with students taking in the sun and relaxing. Normally most of the students kept off the grass, but now groups of friends were lying on blankets, or throwing a quaffel between them. Some were studying, others pleasure reading and some were involved in heated debates over course work, movies or politics. Some of them looked up when they heard a large group of louder students approaching. It was the duelling team on their way to the quidditch pitch. Over the last few weeks the rest of the students had grown used to seeing the duelling team travelling as a pack. Their course work made it necessary to stick together. Friends of team members waved or called over, but few actually approached. Social dynamics had shifted slightly. While some had made fun of the ones entering the program in the beginning, most now envied them. Their dorm was bordering on luxurious, their training outfits were of the highest quality and their instructors already had a reputation for being cool and a little mysterious. So the team members went from being laughed at by some, to being envied by most. It had led to friendships even ending. Jealousies and insecurities had raised their ugly heads.

Clarence had no such qualms. When he saw the team, he quickly gathered his study materials and rose to join them. Due to his friendship with Francis, he'd come to know some of the team members. Especially the Southies, since he actively sought them out. Keisha smiled and nudged him a little in the shoulder, making him stumble a bit.

"Hey there handsome." She greeted him. He gave her a mischievous smile and winked.

"Hi gorgeous. What are you guys up to?" He lifted his satchel strap over his head, so it hung across his chest. He'd watched a few Indiana Jones movies and fallen in love with the satchel Indie carried in each one. Francis was a little envious, since he thought it was cool too.

"Francis and Lorelei talked us into relaxing a bit today. Apparently that means quidditch." Keisha said. Clarence groaned.

"Quidditch is boring." He waved it off. "We should do something fun." He proposed. "Like going to the beach or playing a card game."

Francesca chuckled and shook her head.

"No way. I've been sitting down so much for the last few weeks, I need to do something." She emphasized her point by doing a little dance around them. Francis shook his head. He was happy about just flying or playing cards as Clarence suggested. He had been getting into better shape, but he wasn't that much into sports and liked to spend his time in other ways.

"Did you bring the Uno cards?" He asked Clarence and his friend's face lit up in a big grin.

"Sure thing. I have the muggle deck and the one we futzed with." Clarence started rummaging in his satchel, but Francesca grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the quidditch pitch.

"None of that now. We're going flying!" Laughing, she pulled him along. Surprised and wide-eyed Clarence looked back toward Francis. He only laughed, as did the other Southies. Even James. Francis had to force himself a little. He had hoped to actually ask Francesca out sometime. It seemed though that she wasn't interested in him, but his best friend. And while he knew that it wasn't any of Clarence's doing, he couldn't help but be a little sad and angry at his friend. He was jostled from his thoughts, when Sabrina bumped into him. It amazed him that suddenly he was surrounded by some of the most popular girls on campus and they acutally noted his presence.

"Why so glum, chum?" She asked with a smile. He shrugged and forced a small smile.

"Nothing really. You going flying too?" He asked in an effort to change the topic away from his ruminations that wouldn't lead him anywhere. Sabrina didn't seeme to notice or mind.

"Sure. I noticed all of you guys leaving and didn't want to be left out. Besides, I hadn't really planned anything for today." She shrugged.

"Do you enjoy quidditch?" Francis asked. Sabrina shrugged.

"I'm not really into the sport, but who doesn't like flying? Did you know that muggles have to jump from planes with a blanket to experience anything like it?!" Her eyes were wide at this. Francis couldn't help but chuckle.

"You mean skydiving? Yes, I've heard of it. Nothing I would ever try, for sure. With a broom you have control over your flight. With a parachute you are carried wherever the wind takes you." He shudderd for effect. Laughing she touched his shoulder and shook her head.

"Definitely something I wouldn't want to try." She agreed.

Loud cheers and clapping had them look up and while they had been talking, the group had entered the Salem university quidditch pitch. It was a bit bigger than most european ones. It allowed not only for the team to practice, but also for students to have a game of pick-up as well. Already the air was filled with other students, who'd had the same idea. The quidditch team was praciticing at the far end, while closer to their side, the amateurs played. Lorelei rubbed her hands eagerly.

"All right. Let's take a few laps to warm up and then we can pick teams." Most nodded and some didn't even wait for her to finish, before they mounted their brooms and rushed off into the air. Francis stepped over to James.

"Would you like to go first?" He asked, offering his broom. James seemed hesitant.

"I haven't flown in quite a while." James admitted. Francis grinned and insisted on James taking the broom.

"It's like riding a bike. Once you learn, you never forget." With his hands he shooed the much bigger boy on to take a flight around the pitch. A miniscule smiled tugged at James' mouth and with a nod, he was off. Francis stayed on the ground with the others and waited his turn. It was curious for Francis to watch James and for the first time realise that he was better at something physical than James. He'd never been an outstanding flyer, but he was a decent one. It would be weird if they ended up on opposing teams and Francis won in a contest of sports.

"Look at beggar-boy. Can't even fly properly on a broom. A fucking disgrace for wizards everywhere!" Stuart and his cronies apparently had also decided to come for some flying. Ever since they'd been kicked off the team, they had done their utmost to either make the Southies miserable or to sabotage the rest of the team members in any way they could. Only two of the old team had made it onto the program, but they had dropped out in the first week. Apparently having to do actual training and not just pushing people around was too much work for them. Also, they had acted out in Professor Granger's class and she'd nailed their asses to the wall for it. And while all men on campus agreed that she was a fine looking woman, the former duelling team members had developed resentment for her, since she defied their preconceptions about what a woman or a female teacher was to be.

Before Francis could finally tell Stuart where to stick it, Sabrina stepped forward.

"What's your problem, Stuart?" She asked annoyed. "What did he or any of the others ever do to you?" Stuart snorted and crossed his arms.

"You don't get it, Maidwater, do you? People like him, like them, aren't supposed to be here. Give them a few months and they'll forget who their betters are." At the last, Stuart threw the remaining Southies a sneer. Gunter chuckled, while sitting down crosslegged and checking on the bristles of his broom.

"Their betters? Are you serious? That's fucking hilarious." Shaking his head, Gunter turned his full attention to his broom, while he now had Stuart's undivided attention.

"Yes, their betters. And if you had any notion of tradition, you would agree. I bet you are an embarassment to your family, Pollenweber." Stuart mocked. Gunter only shrugged his shoulders.

"My grandfather, maybe, but he's an asshole and the rest of the family agrees. Most of them parrot what he says so he won't exclude them from his will. I don't care though. Live and let live I always say. Besides, spouting shit like that will get you into trouble back home. No matter if you're among wizards or muggles." He gave Stuart a relaxed smile and continued to take care of his broom. Stuart was a little stumped, since he was used to people being aggressive in return and going on the offensive. Something he knew how to deal with. Gunter's serenity was something new to him. He was at a loss on what to do next. Insults seemed out. As James passed over them, still a bit wobbly on the broom, Stuart knew what he would do. Grabbing his own broom, he mounted it and zoomed after the unsuspecting James. The team members remaining on the ground knew immediately what he was up to and started to call for James to land. James however didn't hear them though. Between his death grip on the broom handle, the rush of his own blood and the wind, he heard nothing but his own breathing. Which was why Stuart's attack took him completely by surprise. Veering wildly off course and rolling in a spiral, James gripped the broom even tighter, the wood groaning. Grinding his teeth, he saw the ground rushing towards him. Pulling hard on the broom, he tried to stabilise his flight and pull up. No luck though. It had been too long since he'd flown on a broom and his coordination and reflexes were not fast enough. Clenching his eyes shut and tucking his chin to his chest, he braced for impact. All the air was pushed from his lungs and sharp pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder, as his right side plowed into the ground hard. His hip and leg were next. His momentum spun him around and after several flips over the grass, he finally came to a stop. Breathing heavily, he lowered his arms from around his head. He'd tucked into a ball to protect his head and prevent any further injury to his limbs. He could already feel a painful throbbing in his hand indicating broken bones. Carefully James tried to take a deep breath. Only slight stitch in his side prevented the full expansion of his lungs. Taking such a fall and not having a broken rib was lucky. Sounds slowly filtered through the haze of adrenalin suddenly leaving his body and other aches became more pronounced. Like his shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact.

"James? James, can you hear me?" A low male voice asked him. Careful hands rolled him to his back. Blinking myopically, James tried to identify the person leaning over him. He didn't know the man. Wavy brown hair hung into dark green eyes that studied him. "James?" The stranger asked again.

Grunting James nodded, lifting his right gingerly to rest on his chest, where he felt it was safer than next to him on the ground. He couldn't lift his head all the way to look at it, since his neck felt like rubber and hurt at the same time.

"How many fingers am I holding up, James?" The stranger asked him. James creased his brow. Not in pain, but in frustration. He didn't need this shit. He'd been hurt much worse in the past and he knew he didn't have a concussion.

"Three." He grumbled, looking around for Keisha or Jamal. They'd get him out of here. A bit of Skele-Gro and a good night's rest and he would be fine.

"Good. Let me help you sit up. You're breathing OK, right?" Now that James was thinking clearer, he recognised the man as Coach Grimos. And he only recognised him, since he almost constantly hung out outside Professor Granger's class room. Nodding James sat while Grimos pushed one bent leg behind him, so that he could rest against it if needed. Gingerly James held his right hand with his left. It might need more attention than he suspected, since he was convinced his little- and ring-finger were not supposed to bend in the manner they currently were. Grimos took his hand in with a sombre expression.

"The nurse will fix you in a jiffy." The older man tried to cheer him. James only grunted and again looked around for his friends. He didn't like being touched by a stranger and it seemed as if Grimos wouldn't stop fussing. Apparently his students were prone to panicking or something along those lines. James' disgruntled stare searched the growing group of spectators. Where the hell were his friends?

Stuart was in the middle of high-fiving his friends, when he was shoved hard into them. Turning with a scowl, he looked down at the person who'd shoved him. Lifting his eyebrows in disbelief, he turned to his friends and laughed out loud.

"Look at that! Francine is angry that I put his boyfriend in his place." The group around him chuckled like the good sycophants they were. These reactions he was comfortable with and they were familiar to him. Before Francis could continue his attack, he was stopped by Keisha. Stuart snorted.

"What's the matter Francine?" He jeered. Keisha shot Stuart a dark look, but turned back to Francis, who she continued to hold back.

"He's not worth it, Francis. Come on. James is hurt. Come on." She softly cajoled. Francis breathed deeply and turned away from Stuart. Keisha was right. Stuart wasn't worth risking his spot on the duelling team for. Also, he was a firm believer in karma. Stuart would get what was coming to him. Money and familial influence wouldn't be able to save Stuart indefinitely. Together with Keisha, Francis pushed his way through the growing throng of students that had formed around James and Coach Grimos. As soon as James caught sight of them, he breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his right hand obviously being broken and him being in pain, Keisha had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Reading James' facial expressions took practice, since he had perfected a neutral, slightly forbidding expression. She'd known him since high school though and she knew right away that while he was in pain, he was a lot more annoyed. And she couldn't fault him. A few broken bones in the hand were nothing compared to some of the injuries they'd suffered over the years. Nudging Francis, Keisha stepped forward from the circle that had formed around James and Coach Grimos. Most of the other students threw them curious glances, but none tried to stop them.

Peter assessed the boy next to him and was impressed that the young man had yet to scream or even whimper in pain. If he'd broken his fingers as badly, he was sure that he would be a rolled up mess. He wasn't too proud to admit that he'd cried a time or two while injured on the pitch. He wasn't discounting the possibility though that James was only putting on a brave front. After all, lots of the students around them were attractive girls. Some of his players had pulled truly stupid stunts in an effort to impress the opposite sex.

While he was still pondering on how to proceed, since a large group had assembled around them now, he noticed movement from among the spectating students. Two other members of the duelling team pushed their way through and came right for them. Peter recognised them, as he had seen them leaving from Hermione's class room a few times, but he didn't know their names; yet. Hermione loved her students, so he planned to make a concerted effort to learn all their names and find out a bit more about them. When she'd left a bit after ten on Friday night, he was a bit disappointed. He'd hoped by taking her to Keiran's, she didn't feel as if he was too forward. It was a relaxing, uncomplicated place. He didn't want to come on too strong, since a classy woman like her had probably guys hanging off of her everywhere she went. He knew from discussions in the Professors' Lounge that academia can be stressful and cutthroat, so he not only wanted to be her boyfriend, but also someone she could turn to for fun and relaxation. He firmly believed in having fun regularly. It relaxed and life was to be enjoyed. Being serious all the time would only give you a heart attack.

"Can you help me get James on his feet?" Peter asked the two newcomers. The girl nodded immediately and moved to James' other side, carefully putting his left arm over her shoulder. The boy pulled a grimace, when he saw James' right hand up close. Peter sighed. He'd hoped the other boy would have more control over his features. James was really big. If he panicked, Peter would have to stun him and he'd only want to do that as a last resort. One, James could injure himself further by falling down, since everyone touching him would be stunned too and two, the other students wouldn't let James forget a panic attack and subsequent stun anytime soon. The entire campus was still having a laugh at some of his team members, who'd had the 'bright' idea to tangle with Hermione. Their reactions were far from the macho image they cultivated on a daily basis and their public perception and coolness factor had taken deep hits that day. Another reason why he'd absolutely had to meet Hermione. Nothing was sexier than a strong woman in his opinion. Well...a strong woman that would still depend on him to be strong whenever he was around. He wouldn't want to have a battle-axe at home. She could be tough at work, but at home he wanted a woman who actually made him feel like a man.

"What's going on here?" A deep voice Peter vaguely knew interruped his thoughts. Looking up, he saw another of the new Professors break through the ring of spectating students. He'd seen the tall man around and admired his way with the ladies. Even the head of administration didn't seem safe from this man's charms. In all his years at Salem, Peter had never seen Mrs Killarney blush like a schoolgirl with a crush. Zabini had pulled it off and what was more, he'd made it seem effortless.

"James was flying a bit on my broom, Professor. One of the other students knocked him out of the air." The timid kid explained and Peter looked up at that. He'd seen another student fly off, but simply assumed there had been a mid-air collision. It happened from time to time on the weekends, when amateur games were on. Inexperienced flyers weren't always completely aware of their surroundings. If this was a deliberate act, it put a whole different spin on things. This was his pitch and while he encouraged competitive play, he abhorred cheating. While it wasn't necessarily illegal to ram your opponent, it spoke of very poor technique and sportsmanship. He also knew that asking the slim boy for a name would be useless. Ratting out fellow students landed you in very hot water with the rest of your peers. No matter if you were friends with them or not.

Zabini's face resembled a thundercloud and it was an expression Keisha had never before seen on her normally jovial professor. She hoped it was never aimed at her. First Professor Granger and now him. It seemed as if her professors had an entirely different, darker side to them. She had no idea what Professor M would look like mad, but she had no intention of ever finding out. James was trying to stand up straight, but when he took a deep breath, he winced and remained hunched over. Apparently his ribs were not as fine as he'd thought. With care Professor Zabini approached him and gently took James' wrist to examine the hand more closely. Keisha did her best to look away. While she wasn't squeamish, the sight of James' fingers pointing in all kinds of wrong directions were playing havoc with her stomach.

Peter felt a little unsure in the presence of the new professor, but he was on his own turf. This was his pitch and he was boss here. As such, he tried to regain the upper hand and dominance.

"Let's get you to the infirmary, James. The nurse will fix you up." He said and made to leave. Zabini's raised hand stopped him. With narrowed eyes, he took the other man in. Zabini was wearing well-used quidditch gear and a well cared for Astrolight 45X was lying at his feet, as if he'd just dropped the valuable league grade broom.

"Those fingers need to be set right now." Zabini insisted. Peter shook his head.

"Sorry, but no. No one here has medical training. I assume the boy is right-handed and if one of us makes a mistake, his wand hand will loose mobility." He leaned closer to Zabini and whispered, so as not to alarm the young man next to him. Peter knew hand injuries. Next to concussions it was the second most common quidditch related injury. Zabini didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation, since he only smirked.

"Watch and learn, Grimos." Zabini raised his wand and a silver sphinx galloped away. Some of the students watched the patronus with wonder as it passed right through some of them. Grimos had to admit the patronus was quite impressive. Not only was it corporeal, but it also assumed an interesting form. His own was a rather simple hawk. He'd never bothered to find out what kind. A sphinx though...he'd pull that one out whenever he could. No matter how impressive Zabini's patronus was, James needed medical attention and Peter had no patience for anymore parlour tricks or theatrics.

"I watched and learned you have a nice patronus, but James needs help now." He murmured, so as not to undermine the other professor's authority in front of the students. Zabini's hand on his sternum prevented him from moving however. Peter was getting angry now. Why was Zabini stopping him from getting medical attention for his student?! Gasps from the students had him look up and he immediately saw what had caught their attention. An intensely white light was rushing over the pitch towards them. Peter's jaw dropped, when he recognised Hermione's face vaguely in the white glow. In an instant she was next to them and with a bright flash she became solid and the white glow receded. Unlike during her classes, her hair now fell freely about her face and shoulders. A satchel was slung over her shoulder. It seemed as if Zabini's patronus had found her at home, since her clothes were much less formal than what Peter and the students had seen her in. A cashmere sweater and well worn jeans along with scuffed boots. Peter's eyebrows rose, when he noticed that a knife sheath was attached to the boots and there was a knife in there. A knife that looked as if it had seen use. Her eyes took in the situation and while she'd been tense when she'd arrived, her stance marginally relaxed after she'd taken in the students, Zabini and Peter. Keisha, James and Francis focused their attention on her, Peter noticed. He knew the power of Hermione's stare. She could communicate loads with just a glance.

"Please hold still, James." She flicked her wrist and her wand seemed to appear from nowhere in her hand. Moving her wrist in complicated circles, she waved for Francis to come closer. Immediately the slim boy stepped forward.

"Please hold my bag, Mr Griffton." She instructed. Her brow was drawn in concentration and Peter was surprised to see several areas on James' body starting to glow in different colours. He'd seen such magic before. In hospitals. Hermione had never mentioned during their date that she'd had medical training. As he thought about it, she'd hardly talked about her past at all. She'd asked a lot about Salem and what his hobbies were. And he'd been happy to oblige. He, as most people, liked to talk about himself. When he thought about it now however, he realised that he'd never even given her an opportunity to get a word in edgewise. Amazed he watched, as she took control of the situation.

"Blaise, please clear the area a bit. I am sure most of the students here have other plans. Keisha, please help James sit down again. Mr Griffton, kindly hand me the pain relieving potion in my bag." Everyone moved to follow her instructions. Peter felt at a bit of a loss, since she hadn't included him and it made him feel a little jealous. Rolling his shoulders, he turned around and joined Zabini in scattering the students still standing around and gawking. Some of them were obviously friends or members of the duelling team and wouldn't be moved, since one of their own was injured. Peter left them alone. As the majority left, he looked back to Hermione. She was kneeling in front of James, who sat on a chair someone had transfigured for him. James' fingers were back in their correct positions and a splint and bandage kept them immobile. Dutifully James downed another potion Hermione was offering him from her satchel. A satchel Francis was studying with intense interest. It seemed as if nothing was badly wrong with James, as all were relaxed and Francis was eagerly asking questions of Hermione, who with a small smile was answering those questions. Peter looked over to his team. They were continuing with their training, but he could tell that their attention was divided. He'd put them through their paces later on. They should get their shit together, as the East Coast quidditch college league games were going to kick off next weekend.

"I want you to take it slow today and tomorrow. Ask Professor Malfoy for a dicta-quill for your coursework. He should be in his office." James nodded, cradling his right hand.

"Yes, Professor." He murmured in his deep voice. Smiling Hermione clapped his leg and rose. Turning to Francis, she took the bag from him and nodded.

"Thank you, Mr Griffton. You did very well." She removed a few vials from her bag and offered them to Francis. "Please make sure that James takes these tonight before going to sleep." Francis nodded and looked over the three vials in his hands. By their colour he identified one as a pain reliever and the other as skele-gro, but he wasn't sure what the third was. He would like to ask, but he had already bombarded Professor Granger with questions while she had been treating James. He was amazed that his potions professor apparently also was a certified healer. He'd never heard about something like that before.

"A potioneer, inventor and a healer. So many talents, Miss Granger. Could make a man feel insecure about himself." Coach Grimos drawled as he approached them, winking at Professor Granger when she looked up. Francis was surprised to see his normally unflappable professor blush.

"Oh...that. I just...well. It seemed like a useful skill to pick up." Professor Granger stammered and pushed her hair back. Francis threw Keisha a glance and she seemed just as surprised if her raised eyebrow was anything to go by. Before an uncomfortable silence could set in, Professor Zabini showed up once more to save the day.

"Oh Granger is just a constant surprise. She has so many talents, I always struggle to figure out how she does it." Zabini winked at her and her blush deepened. Grimos' smile however turned a little strained.

"Yeah. How do you do it, Hermione?" Peter's quip was supposed to be lighthearted, but it was a little strained. Clearing her throat, Hermione garnered control over her features and rose.

"Oh shush you two!" She took her bag back from Francis and slung it over her shoulder. "Getting a better understanding of healing spells seemed only natural considering." She explained airily. Blaise nodded in understanding, while Peter wrinkled his brow in confusion. Seizing the opportunity though, Peter moved closer to Hermione.

"It's great seeing you, though I had hoped for better circumstances. I was wondering if you would like to have coffee later. We didn't really have the opportunity to talk on Friday." He offered and tagged on a bright, engaging smile. Blushing again, Hermione looked around. No longer shy but rather flustered and uncomfortable. Blaise noticed, but wasn't sure whether Hermione wanted him to interfere. He knew though that she would prefer privacy for the ensuing conversation. What the hell was Grimos thinking anyway? Right now was not the moment to ask for a date. There was also the fact that Hermione was an intensely private person due to the amount of hassle she'd had with the press over the years, starting in her fourth year and those preposterous articles about her love triangle with Potter and Krum. At the time, he'd found it funny, like almost all Slytherins. Most of those jibes had stopped after the Yule Ball, when all the male students had realised Granger wasn't just a know-it-all muggleborn, but also an attractive girl.

Waving his hand, Blaise indicated for his team to leave. Keisha and Francis helped James along, while the rest formed a protective ring around them. As they passed Stuart and his posse still sitting in the stands and enjoying the show, they all threw them dark glares. While Blaise was all for revenge and retribution, he preferred it being done subtly and to great effect. A simple prank easily traced back to you wouldn't do the trick and lead to further trouble as the prankee would know it was you and retaliate. It was time to start his own kind of etiquette training. Let Draco show them how to sit and eat properly. Blaise would make sure that his team was able to get justice for themselves and their own, the Slytherin way. Leaving such education up to Hermione was an absolute no go. The confrontational Gryffindor way was just too obvious.

 **AN: Hello all and sorry for my long hiatus. First my company had huge technical issues and then my appendix decided to make a bid for freedom. I am fine now and finally out of the hospital. Phew.**

 **Again, sorry for the long absence, but since I am still on sick leave I have loads of time now to write. ;) Have a good one to all of you!**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Nervously Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear. Peter was looking at her with anticipation. God, how had the other girls in her year done it? She liked Peter's zest for life and fun, but she wasn't interested in him that way. The dinner with Malfoy last night had made that abundantly clear. She'd lain awake most of last night, after Draco had escorted her home. She'd spent hours pacing between her bedroom, living room and her kitchen. More than once she'd picked up her phone with her finger ready to dial Ginny. She needed someone who had much more dating experience, but she hadn't wanted to disturb her friend. It had already been way past midnight and Saturdays were always a nuthouse with the Weasleys, as Molly made sure all her children and grandchildren came by for a family dinner. As Molly loved being a grandmother, she spoiled all her grandchildren and gave out candy and cookies to all who asked. The resulting sugar rush was something her own children were not too happy about. Hermione knew from experience that settling James, Albus, Teddy and Lily down after such a dinner was hell on earth. So instead she'd gone over everything concerning Peter and Draco in her head. Her night and subsequent early morning had been fruitless. She wasn't sure what Draco's intentions were. She knew that his traditional mindset would have made him clearly state that he was interested in her romantically. But still. The impression she'd gotten from him yesterday inidicated he wanted to date, didn't it? A romantic, French restaurant, the deep looks, the way he'd been touching her hand and the small of her back...it all pointed to him wanting a romantic relationship and not just a platonic one.

And then there was Peter. He'd made it very clear that he wanted a romantic relationship and while they were on their own, she could appreciate his humour and general laissez-faire attitude, but as soon as others were involved it became...complicated. Then she became sidelined in favour for his socialising with his many friends. While she didn't want him to constantly make her the centre of his attention, she would appreciate not being demoted to simple arm candy the moment someone else walked into a room. He was an attractive man and one member of her old group sessions had suggested to Hermione that she should try one-night-stands. Though she had no experience with such loose sexual practices, Olivia had described the kind of men she'd taken home and Peter seemed to fit that description. Easy on the eyes and easy on the ears, she'd always said. And Hermione was a little ashamed, but she had to agree. The conversations with Peter inevitably always turned back to quidditch and himself. She'd made a conscious decision to open up a bit when she came to the States and be more communicative about herself, but during their 'date' on Friday, she'd barely been able to tell him anything more than her being a muggleborn and a few sentences about her parents. Should she have been more forceful? Learning and knowledge, the classroom and dangerous situations were her forte. Anything to do with dating and romance and she was completely out of her element. Her only experiences to draw on were the short relationship she'd had with Viktor and the couple of good months she'd had with Ronald. Which was why she was floundering now.

On one hand she would like to make new friends, Peter included, but on the other hand she didn't want to string him along or give him false hopes. Friday and Saturday night had made it clear that Peter was not what she wanted. And forcing herself to suppress her own feelings and misgivings was what had ruined her relationship with Ronald. Not that he hadn't been at fault as well. However she could use another friend. For the moment she would have to approach this on her own. As such, she made the conscious decision to duck out.

"That is a nice suggestion, but I fear I have to decline. The business meeting with Blaise and Draco yesterday ran late and I still have to do a lot of preparations for tomorrow. Blaise's summons pulled me out of the middle of that." She gave him a small smile to head off any kind of angry reaction from her rebuttal. It was a habit she'd fallen into with Ronald. The minute she did it, she berated herself internally. As her therapists had said, saying no was not something to be ashamed of and that it was her right. She still felt guilty, when she saw the disappointment on Peter's face.

"Oh. OK. Important meeting then, I guess." He tried to prolong their conversation. She breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't blow up in anger. Clearing her throat, she indicated for him to walk back towards his end of the pitch. Together they started to walk.

"Yes, it was. We had to finalise the roster for the duelling team. Competitions will start up soon and we wanted for the duellists and their seconds to become used to being partners." She explained. He nodded and summoned his broom into his hand.

"Yeah. Team cohesion is important and making sure that people know how to work together. I am still getting my new team to mesh right now." He pointed up and she followed his finger to see the Salem quidditch team flying overhead.

"Your new team?" She asked. She hadn't been aware that there even had been try-outs, but then she wasn't really interested in quidditch and usually tuned out when the topic came up. He sighed deeply.

"Yes, my new team. After your run-in with some of them, the Dean implemented a new policy and I decided the team could do with some weeding out. Behaviour like the one you encountered is not tolerated for anyone on my team. This led to the team being down a few core players and I had to replace them. The old team members knew each other well, but with the new additions, I had to step up training." He smiled at her, indicating that he didn't hold a grudge towards her for getting some of his core players kicked off the team by way of the Dean and his new policies.

"I hope the new additions are doing well." She threw a glance up. Smiling he wobbled his hand.

"So, so. It's mostly a case of them not having played with the others long enough. Practice will take care of that. I fear though that we won't make it as far in the league as I had hoped this year." Straddling his broom, Peter turned back to her. "I am sorry that you don't have time today, but maybe we can simply reschedule?" He asked hopefully. She winced a bit internally at seeing the hopeful glint in his eye. She really needed to get a call in to Ginny.

"Sure. We can go sometime next week." She tried to be non-committing in her answer. She didn't want to create the impression that their having coffee was another date. Because to her, it wouldn't be. Simply a coffee with a friend. He hovered close to her on his broom and his face lit up in a smile.

"It's a date then. I'll pick you up when I can drag you away next week after classes." With a wink he whisked away on his broom, leaving Hermione crestfallen. Apparently her attempts at giving subtle hints she didn't want to date were either ignored or overlooked. Breathing deep and blowing the air out slowly, she turned to one of the other entrances to the pitch. Sweet Circe but her first term at Salem university was shaping up to be just as crazy as some of her Hogwarts years. Though it was much less life threatening since no Death Eaters were going to show up with a madman in the lead hell bent on killing her and other muggleborns. Lenghtening her stride, she made her way over campus. She hadn't lied to Peter about having a lot of work to do. She still needed to grade essays and prepare her seminars. And then she had to call Ginny. She really needed info on how to deal with this situation. Ginny had encouraged her to go out with Peter and while she'd been excited at first, now she was in a predicament. She had no idea how to let down a guy easily, how to explain that dating wasn't what she wanted. Gathering her hair in a haphazard pony tail and securing it with the hair tie she almost always carried around her wrist. Huffing she spun on the spot to apparate home as soon as she left campus. She was in her thirties damn it! All that dating and hormone stuff should be behind her!

xXx

Draco hummed as he was putting the final touches on the clean team roster they had agreed on yesterday. He was giddy and full of energy, despite only having slept a few hours and the emotional wringer he'd gone through. He knew the feeling in the pit of his stomach from his teenage years, before it had all gone sideways. It had taken all his self-control not to ask for a kiss after he'd escorted Hermione home. Though it was the only thing he could think about when she'd turned around wringing her hands nervously at her front door. The glow in her cheeks and her shy glances had his testosterone roaring. That a self-assured, independent woman like Hermione was acting so vulnerable and hesitant had all his protective instincts on alert and made him feel quintessentially male. Something that hadn't happened in quite a while. After the war, he'd had short romances and was chasing something through the beds of several witches, never finding it. With Hermione, it appeared that he'd finally caught that elusive thing he'd been searching for. He felt...complete and not like a failure. She had deserved a great evening and dinner and he had provided just that. Granted, it was not as heroic as it would have been standing up to the garbage his head had been filled with when he was a teenager, but it was a start. Right now he felt as if with a bit of work he could actually achieve being worth her time.

He was roused from his thoughts, when there was a tentative knock on his open office door. Looking up, he was surprised to see a whole throng of his students standing there. With James front and centre. Immediately Draco's gaze zeroed in on James' bandaged hand. His good mood took a deep dive and his brow drew down along with it. Rising he made his way over to them.

"What happened?" He asked and carefully took James' hand in his own, checking the bandage and discovering the splint. It could only mean that some of his fingers had been broken. Not good. The first competitions were coming up fast and James' recovery would put a big dent in his training time. That was a minor concern though. Draco was much more interested in how this came about.

"Crashed with a broom." James grumbled, flushing a little. "Professor Granger told me to ask you for a dicta-quill." At this, Draco focused his attention on James.

"Professor Granger checked you out?" He asked. It didn't surprise him that Hermione was able to treat James. After all, she was the one who made sure Harry Potter not only made it through his school years, but also make it in one piece through their year on the run. James nodded and Draco noticed Francis Griffton holding up a few vials. Good. The injury side of the problem seemed to be under control. However he didn't believe for a moment that James simply crashed a broom so hard, he'd injured his hand that badly.

"Yeah, she did. It was amazing the way she turned up. Professor Zabini sent his patronus to get her and she came flying in like a comet. All glowing with white light. So cool!" Keisha gushed with lights in her eyes. Frowning Draco looked to the others, who were eagerly nodding along. He'd heard and seen this kind of magic used by Death Eaters, but apparently the other side possessed the same skill. What he wouldn't give to have seen it. It seemed appropriate for her to arrive in a flash of bright light.

"Yes, yes, it was very impressive and we all ooh'd and aah'd about Granger's impressive magic. Now, you all should enjoy the rest of your weekend, because just because James was injured doesn't mean I won't put you through your paces as of tomorrow again." Zabini's voice had them look up and around. Blaise was standing behind the throng of students with a lopsided smile on his face. After he'd made sure that none of the duelling team would do something monumentally stupid like backtracking and confronting Stuart and posse, he had headed over to the Duelling gym and changed back into street clothes. Nodding most of the students dispersed, while James and the others stayed behind, until Draco had handed him the dicta-quill.

"You'll have to ask the others to take notes for you during class, but you can use the quill to do your homework. Just put it tip down on paper and start talking. It will automatically write for you, punctuation and spell-check included." At the last Draco winked at James and was relieved to see the quiet boy smile a little. He knew that the Southies were struggling. Not physically, but academically. In an effort to help them relax, he wanted to set something up for them soon. They sure deserved it for all the hard work they'd done over the last few weeks. But that were considerations for another day. Right now he wanted to know what had happened. As the students left, he indicated for Blaise to step inside his office with a tilt of his head. Sighing his best friend did. Blaise knew what was coming, when Draco closed the door behind him.

"Before you start the inquisition, remember that I know all your interrogation tricks and I won't fall for them." Blaise pointed out. Draco rounded his desk and sat down with a dark expression on his face.

"Blaise, this is no joke. James was hurt and I don't believe for a second that he simply crashed his broom." He pressed out between his teeth. He'd hoped that the enmity the Southies faced from certain other students would have passed with the start of the term, as the students should be busy with their course workload. Apparently not. Blaise lounged in one of the chairs in front of Draco's desk and was the picture of relaxed.

"Of course I didn't buy that either and I have a pretty good idea who was responsible. But you know just as much as I do that the guys will want to get their own revenge. And I for one say let them. Provided they do it in the proper manner." He qualified, which prompted Draco to raise an eyebrow. Blaise was relieved to see that his little diversion tactic had worked and Draco seemed more interested now in what Blaise meant, than in tracking down whoever had hurt his student.

"Proper manner? And what, pray tell, is the proper manner?" Draco asked. Blaise grinned, leaned back and crossed his legs.

"Isn't it obvious? **Our** manner, Draco. Our way, the Slytherin way. Quiet, subtle and non-traceable. I'll keep an eye on the kids and nudge them in the right direction. You know as well as I do that open hostilities should be the very last route to take. Violence being uncouth behaviour and all that." He waved his hand and gave Draco his most devious smile. It was answered with a devious one of Draco's and Blaise had to call upon his mother's training of always being poised and unaffected in order not to squirm in discomfort, even though he knew that Draco's anger was not directed at him. Despite Draco's good looks, when he chose to, his friend could look downright diabolical. And it made Blaise sad. The years among the Death Eaters and Azkaban had changed him. He missed the care free boy he'd played with. Sometimes that boy was still there somewhere, but a lot of darkness was in between that boy and adult Draco.

In an effort to drag Draco back from that darkness enabling him to assume that facial expression, Blaise changed the subject.

"So, how was your date last night?" He asked with a wink. Draco suddenly got very interested in the papers on his desk and Blaise was amused to see that his friend was actually blushing.

"It wasn't a date. As I said when you and Ms O'Brian were leaving, it was an apology for all the time I monopolised yesterday." Draco grumpily explained. Blaise couldn't help the snort that escaped him.

"Do you truly think I will believe this? Come now Draco! It is me you are talking to. _La Sorciére_ is not exactly known for its neutral ambiance." Blaise winked conspiratorially when Draco looked up with a huff.

"Should I have shown my appreciation for her working all day Saturday by taking her to a pub for nachos?" Draco shot back with an ironic twist to his lips. Blaise snorted and tried not to laugh out loud. He and Jane had talked about Peter Grimos' ludicrous idea of a date and had a good laugh. It still provided Blaise with no end of entertainment.

"Of course not. You know my standpoint on fast food. However, _La Sorciére_?! Really Draco? Way to be subtle." Blaise pointed out. Groaning Draco sat back, rubbing his face.

"It was **just** dinner between colleagues. Maybe friends." He explained a bit exasperated Blaise wouldn't let this go.

"Methinks the lad protests too much. Come on, Draco. It's just us and I know you spelled this office to be completely sound proof the moment the door is closed. You always liked your private spaces private. So come on. It's me you are talking to." Blaise cajoled, hoping Draco would open up. For some time they sat in silence. Blaise didn't move or try to push Draco to talk. Either his best friend would confide in him or not. Trying to force anything on Draco nowadays was a very dangerous proposition. Ever since he'd been released from Azkaban, Draco reacted to force like a wild animal backed into a corner. He would lash out with intense violence, which he would regret later. Luckily Blaise knew Draco very well and as a Slytherin knew when to apply pressure or when to simply wait it out. Most people didn't like prolonged silence and felt the innate need to fill that silence with conversation. Blaise had used that need to great effect and for his benefit many times. And it didn't fail him this time as well, especially since he rightly assumed that Draco desperately wanted to talk about the not-date he'd had with Granger last night. When Draco groaned and buried his face in his hands, Blaise knew he'd won.

"It was amazing, Blaise. She is...perfect. We had wine and a wonderful dinner. The conversation was stimulating and I never felt bored for a second. Do you have any idea how rare that is?! I mean, I never feared that Hermione wouldn't be able to keep up an interesting conversation, but the way our discussion flowed was...natural. Relaxing. We were so in tune. I could make a comment or segue and she would get it." Sighing Draco let his head bump into his desk. "I am in deep trouble, Blaise." He murmured.

"Only realising that just now?" Blaise chuckled, very amused at Draco's teenager behaviour. With a dark glare, Draco looked up.

"I am happy my current situation amuses you. The problem remains however that I cannot court her openly. I am still her boss." Draco pointed out, while leaning back. Blaise waved that off.

"Pish posh. Who cares? Talk to her about your reservations. See what she has to say about it. After all, if you want to court her, she still has to agree to it. Or are you going to see her father and ask for permission? I can't see that going over well with Granger. Women like that kind of 'romantic' stuff, but only when it comes to marriage."

"And how would you know that, Blaise? Proposed to anyone lately?"

"As if! No, I know all that shit, because of my mother. You've met her and know how independent she is, but she still wants all her suitors to come to me for permission, since her father has been dead for ages."

"Your stepfathers ask you for permission?! That seems all kinds of wrong."

"Yes and it is, trust me. However tradition demands that they get the blessing from the family head and for my mother unfortunately that means me. We've come to an agreement though. She tells me way in advance whether any of them are coming my way and what she wants. That way I won't get blindsided like I did eight years ago. Just picture it, mate. Middle of the night, I was in the middle of entertaining a particularly fetching witch and in comes this old, German wizard with an accent thicker than the Fat Lady. Of course my entertaining came to a quick end, as my companion was freaked out. So was I. My mother had given that Adalbert or something character access to her floo, which as you know is always open and connected to mine. I had to listen to him wax poetically about my mother in broken English for **two** hours! And he described, in detail, things I never wanted to know about my mother!" By now Draco was in tears. He had heroically tried not to laugh in sympathy for his friend, but this was just too much.

"Please stop." He begged. Blaise grinned and shook his head.

"What? You don't want to know how amazingly flexible my mother is for her age? Shocking! And here I thought you liked my mother." Both men laughed at this.

"Yes, I like your mother, but there are some secrets women and especially mothers should just keep to themselves."

"Yes, well. Good luck with that when it comes to my mother. I am amazed actually she hasn't yet dropped by to interrupt my life with her own special brand of excitement. She still thinks I need her around to take care of me, so it won't be long before she'll move here. Good Godric, just think about it. We should warn the American Ministry." Blaise said with wide eyes. And this was the last straw. Draco couldn't help himself and collapsed back into his chair, laughing loudly. And it felt good. He didn't know how long it had been, since he'd laughed so freely. Trying to get himself under control, he met his friend's eyes.

"I...I am sorry, Blaise. I shouldn't laugh." He apologised. Blaise shrugged.

"Whyever not? I am. We both know how my mother is and if her outrageous behaviour can get you to laugh for a bit, then so be it." He winked. "I won't mind and we both know she won't either. While you are her type, one: you are my best friend and two: your mother would hunt her down and make her a leper in high society. If she still lives after Narcissa is done with her." Blaise laughed out loud, when Draco affected a shudder going through him at the idea of a relationship between him and Blaise's mother. Having had a good laugh, both settled down again and Blaise for once assumed a serious expression.

"Don't think about the attack on James, Draco. I'll take care of it. You just...do your stuff. Enjoy being a normal, boring duelling coach and leave the details up to me. After all, I doubt Granger would appreciate it, if you got yourself into trouble. While you may say that you are only 'friends', I get a whole different vibe from the both of you. So relax, leave the revenge business to me and keep your nose clean. Get your head straight and ask Granger out for a date." Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"I'll consider it. Thank you, Blaise. For looking out for the kids." He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. "And for badgering me about Hermione." Smugly Blaise polished the nails of his right hand on his shirt. Chuckling Draco shook his head.

"No need, mate. What are friends for?" Blaise asked and raised an eyebrow.

 **AN: Here I go again. :) I was wondering if anyone could help me in putting together a cover image for the story. I have been searching for good images, but nothing really jumps out at me. Any of you have an idea?**

 **Coming up in the next chapters: Blaise's start of training, Hermione and Draco at the shrink's aaand (drum roll) a new (old) friend is making an appearance. :P Sorry, I couldn't help myself.**

 **Thanks again for all the continued support and for all of you, have a great one! :D**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The new week greeted the duelling team with an early wake-up call by their physical coach, as he'd promised. All their revenge plans laid late last night were pushed to the back burner. Clustering together on their morning jog over the campus, they attempted to further plan in gasped whispers, but whenever they managed to get close enough to each other for conversation, Professor Zabini was there and ushered them along. By the time they got back to the gym, they were more out of breath than usual. Even Emilio, who regularly ran the perimeter of the campus. Sitting on the floor in rows, they started with the sit-ups, while Professor Zabini walked among them to check whether any of them were cheating or lagging.

"Ladies and gentlemen! A little more enthusiasm, please!" Professor Zabini called out, since some had tried to slow their sit-ups in order to talk. Grunting the students got back into it. Blaise smirked, as he was perfectly aware of what his charges were up to. They desperately needed his help if they always were this obvious.

"What are we?" He called out. Confused the students looked at each other. This was new. "Come now! Cat got your tongues? What are we?" Blaise repeated.

"A team?" Some hesitantly answered. Blaise grinned and nodded.

"Indeed, we are. What we are not is a bunch of uncivilized, uncouth hooligans. We are a **duelling** team. And as duelling is the most civilized and sophisticated sport, I expect each and everyone of you to comport yourselves accordingly." As he walked among them, he made eye contact with select students, who he assumed to be the ring leaders in the revenge planning. More nervous glances were exchanged as the team was catching on. How had their professor found out? They had been very careful in not discussing anything in earshot of their professors.

"Let me refresh your memory! A good duellist knows his opponent. He watches and waits. Patience! A good duellist knows when to strike. An ill-timed hex can spell a very early and untimely end to a duel." Blaise made sure to look directly at Francis and James at this. Both boys sat up a little straighter. Zabini held their gazes and winked. James nodded and continued his sit-ups, while Francis smirked for the first time in his life. Nodding, Blaise continued his circuit.

"A good duellist studies his opposition. He finds their weaknesses. And when the time is right, he exploits those weaknesses. He waits to strike and when he does, a good duellist knows that he's made sure that his strike will not only definitively end the duel, but also that his opponent will never see it coming. And is unable to retaliate." By now the entire team had worked out what their professor was telling them.

"Now! We are going to try this again. What are we?" Blaise called out. Grinning at each other, the students around him continued with their sit-ups with renewed vigour.

"A team!" They all called out. Blaise grinned. Those idiots would never know what hit them.

"I didn't hear you properly. What are we, ladies and gentlemen?" He stopped in front of his students, who all looked at him with smirks on their faces.

"A team!" They shouted, despite their physical exhaustion. Smiling darkly, Blaise crossed his arms.

"Again!" He shouted.

"A team!" The students responded with even more enthusiasm. Blaise would have to remember to thank the witless idiots who had attacked his team. This was better than any team building exercise in the world. Have them band together against a common enemy. That didn't mean though that he would cancel the exercise he'd planned for them tomorrow. This would only reinforce his official lessons.

"That is right. And you will act like **my** team! Is that clear?" The students had stopped their sit-ups since in their enthusiasm they flew through them.

"Yes, Professor!" They called out and got to their feet. Nodding Blaise stood a little straighter. Campus life was about to become more interesting for certain students.

xXx

With a smile at her handful of students, Hermione let out her advanced applied potions class. She enjoyed teaching them immensely, since each and everyone of them was absolutely dedicated to their subject. Dean McPherson had sat in on one of her classes as was standard procedure for new hires in order for him to assess her compentency. Suffice it to say that he and the students had been floored by her knowledge and tight lesson plan. While Hermione didn't give any quarter and expected concentration and professionalism at all times, she was also fair. As she had working experience for the British Ministry, she incorporated some of that into her classes. Almost all her students wanted to do potions research or work in big corporations selling potions. As such, Hermione made sure they knew about proper procedure and discipline. One of her first assignments had been to write a research proposal, which included a cost/benefit summary. All students had failed, as she had expected. While they had been disheartened at first, she made sure in her next classes to bring them up to speed. At the end of term, she would ask for another proposal. Already her students had approached her with curiously specific questions. She should have gone into teaching long ago. It was a perfect fit for her, she discovered.

After she had packed up her notes and laptop, she made her way out of the auditorium. All her students had waited for her and were now surrounding her and asking questions about the study material and upcoming tests. With an indulgent smile she answered most of the questions.

"Yes, Hubert, the ratio of newt eyes to wormwood is important, but that is not the core of the question I asked." She pointed out to the current second best in her class. He was in fierce competition to Ariana Hanson. They routinely swapped places being placed at the top of the class. During today's lecture, Hubert had answered just this question wrong, while Ariana had gotten it right. Of course Hubert was now contesting it. Hermione didn't mind. Hubert accepted her authority, but his pride was hurt a little bit and Ariana never let him forget it when he got something wrong. Of course he never let her forget either when she made a mistake.

"But Professor..." He began again, but Hermione shook her head and the other students around them chuckled.

"My answer will not change, Mr Rosen. Newt eyes were not the most effective ingredient. Whether the ratio is increased does not change the outcome. While they are relatively low-cost in comparison to salamander eyes, the fact remains that the salamander eyes will increase the potions effect to a higher quotient at cost. As such, Ms Hanson's answer stands as correct." She blunted her reprimand by giving him a smile and while he was still grumbling, he nodded.

"Yes, salamander eyes are more effective and require lesser amounts of wormwood for the wanted reaction, but as newt eyes are cheap as dirt, almost all companies, including Johnson&Johnson or Nestlé will go for them instead of salamander eyes." The smooth cadence of Draco's voice had Hermione stand a little taller and she had to consciously suppress a pleasured shudder. Ever since the term began and she no longer had time to cook for the duelling team, she'd missed their little arguments. Her students were used to seeing Draco waiting for her, as he came by sometimes to discuss team business, but up until now, he'd never contradicted her lectures in any way. Raising an eyebrow, she turned to him and swallowed. He was leaning to the wall outside her class room, arms and feet crossed. A strand of his hair was hanging in his face and she wanted to tuck it behind his ear. Maybe while she was kissing him. Wait, what?! Clearing her throat, she rallied behind her intellect.

"That may be so, Professor Malfoy. The fact however remains that salamander eyes are the superior ingredient. And are more cost efficient." She defended her standpoint, a playful glint in her eye. A small smile tugged at Draco's lips and the same glint was in his eyes. It gave him a slightly smoldering look and she could feel her heart beating a mile a minute. Her cheeks flushed, as she remembered the look he'd given her, when he'd escorted her home. It was anything but platonic. And in that moment, she had been inches away from inviting him inside. His perfect manners in simply saying good night and her realisation had kept that from happening though. And some part of her regretted that.

"Your advise in their ears." He winked. Hermione and all of her female students blushed. Draco could be devastatingly handsome when he wanted.

Before Draco could explain why he was here, a call of her name had her turn around. She swallowed and paled a bit, when she saw Peter coming down the hallway toward them still in his quidditch training uniform.

Peter had made the conscious decision to go straight from training to see Hermione. Experience had shown that almost all women liked how he looked fresh from the quidditch pitch. Hair tousled, sligthly out of breath and the form fitting uniform didn't hurt either. What he hadn't counted on was Malfoy being here as well. Fixing his smile on his face, he continued towards her. It was too late now to pull back. He winked at some of the students, but most of them were still throwing longing glances at Malfoy. It threw him a bit. Before Malfoy and Zabini had come along, he had been the youngest and apparently most attractive male professor on campus. And he'd gotten used to being king of the hill. Having competition didn't sit well with him. He'd always been the golden boy. Best chaser on his team, team captain and if that bludger and sub-par healer hadn't botched up the healing of his elbow, he would have been one of the best chasers in the American league. Failing was simply not in his vocabulary.

"Hi Hermione. I was wondering if you had time for coffee now, since you had to take a rain-check yesterday." He drawled in his most charming voice and winked for maximum effect. When he saw her blushing he knew he had it in the bag. Screw Malfoy and all his money and holier-than-thou attitude. He knew what women wanted and he'd be damned if he let Hermione be snatched away by the smug Brit.

This was an absolute nightmare to Hermione. Not only was Draco here, but all her students as well. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down her breathing. Counting in her head had never really worked for her, so she had worked with Jane to find out what would calm her. In the end it had been glaringly obvious. Reciting facts in her head from some of her favourite books elicited calming and happy memories. Following her therapist's instructions, she took her breath in through her nose and let it slowly out through her mouth. A soft touch to her shoulder had her open her eyes and look up. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew it was Draco. Concern was shining in his eyes and she noted also that he was waving to her students to clear off. Which they did, much to her surprise.

"Are you okay?" He softly asked. She could see Peter behind him, brow furrowed in confusion. Nodding she gave Draco a small smile and stroked over the hand he'd placed in comfort on her shoulder. When looking at him, he often gave off a distant, cold vibe and she'd often assumed that would translate to touching him. But as she'd learned yesterday, while his skin might be light and seeming like marble, it was warm and smooth to the touch.

"Yes, thank you." She murmured, giving him a smile and light squeeze to his hand. Nodding, he moved back, giving her her private space. It was curious how he knew her so well, while Peter didn't. It wasn't as if Draco had any real advantages concerning her, since their last interactions had been so long ago and she'd changed quite a bit in the intervening years. Clearing her throat, she turned to Peter.

"Hello Peter. I am sorry, but I fear I do not have the time. The duelling team is due in an hour and I have to set up the potions lab." It wasn't necessarily true, but she needed an out. Going with him for coffee would possibly cement the idea in Peter that she wanted to date him and currently she was in no condition to have that kind of conversation with him. She hadn't been this close to a panic attack in a long time. Which reminded her. Turning her head, she checked whether Draco had left. He'd only moved a few feet down the corridor, giving them privacy but waiting for her. Again, how had he known she wouldn't want him hovering? Especially since she could remember his almost compulsive need to eavesdrop from her years at Hogwarts. Her attention was directed back to Peter, when he took her hand in his.

"I am sorry to hear that, but maybe we can reschedule again?" He asked with hope in his eyes. Breathing deep, Hermione nodded. There was no way around it. She would have to set him straight somehow and having coffee with him in private seemed like the way to go.

"Of course. Could we meet on Wednesday or Thursday? I have appointments I cannot miss tomorrow." She suggested. It also gave her the opportunity to talk all this over with not only Ginny, but Adele as well, since she had an appointment with her tomorrow. Peter smiled winningly and bowed over her hand, unknowingly imitating Draco. She knew she was comparing the two all the time and some part of her knew exactly why. And unfortunately for Peter, he again fell short. With Draco such a bow appeared natural, since for him it was, while with Peter it seemed forced. It lacked elegance and he didn't seem comfortable with it.

"As the lady wishes. I'd be happy to see you on Wednesday for coffee. Let's say around two? I know a place you'll absolutely love. Red's Sandwich shop. It's in downtown Salem and one of the oldest buildings in town." He winked and Hermione couldn't help but smile. Apparently he'd been listening a bit to her between his quidditch anecdotes.

"Sounds lovely. See you on Wednesday then." She extricated her hand from his and turned to Draco. This next conversation would be just as straining but for entirely different reasons.

Peter watched Hermione go and was surprised that her entire demeanour had turned around when he'd mentioned Red's. He'd been once or twice, but he preferred a different venue. Catrina, one of his friends, had suggested Red's, when he'd talked to her yesterday about Hermione. He hadn't noticed it, but when he'd been out with Hermione, Catrina had talked to her. Despite his persistence about wanting to go with Hermione to Willows Arcade, Catrina had insisted on Red's. And she'd been right. He had to remember to thank her for insisting.  
And then there was the unexpected complication of Malfoy. Peter hadn't expected competition at this point. Jagger had been bragging about wanting to take Hermione out a time or two in the Professors Lounge, but nothing had ever come of it, as Peter had expected. The geek talked a tall game, but when it came down to it, he wouldn't follow through. The moment Peter had made it clear that he was asking Hermione out, Jagger and the others had backed off. Like they always did. But he didn't see Malfoy backing off, simply because Peter had staked a claim. No. He would have to step up his game, if he wanted to compete with the arrogant money bag. Before the start of the term, Peter had interacted a few times with Malfoy, but the other man hadn't been all that sociable. Peter wasn't used to people not wanting being friendly with him. He'd never had to convince someone to be social with him and as a result he'd decided it probably wasn't worth his time. Zabini on the other hand had been a whole other story. Peter'd thought they'd hit it off well, since they'd talked quidditch and played a bit of pick-up, so he was confused about the other man's behaviour. Especially in view of the incident on the pitch. Was it possible that Zabini had only acted friendly? But why? Peter thought of himself as a nice, approachable guy. Could it be O'Brian's work? He'd dated her a few times after she came to work for Salem Uni, but he'd thought they'd parted on amicable terms. Mulling this over, he moved down the hallway until he came to the next corner. Slipping around, he leaned against it, trying to see what Malfoy would do. He needed to keep an eye on the competition after all.

Draco watched her come closer and looked for any indications that her discussion with that idiot Grimos had agitated her. That uncultured, blind fool had no respect for Hermione's privacy or wishes. Spending five minutes with her should have taught Grimos that Hermione preferred to conduct her business in private. Especially when it concerned personal business. The idiot peacock had to broadcast however that he was intending to date Hermione to all and sundry, so that everyone was aware. Moron. When courting a woman it was about her and not about marking your territory. A bit hypocritcal coming from him, since all he wanted to do was to grab every male on campus and tell them in no uncertain terms that Hermione was his. He had a handle on that impulse though, unlike some annoying quidditch coach he could mention.

"Sorry for the interruption." She apologised. He waved it off with a smile.

"Not a problem. I just wanted to advise you that I wanted to post the roster tonight. Some of the students might want to approach you about their roles and I wanted to give you a heads-up." He explained. She nodded, nibbling her lip. He had to suppress a groan when his eyes zeroed in on her full lips. He immediately refocused his attention to more innocent places, when she looked back up.

"Thank you. I am certain some will want to know what support actually does entail. Maybe I should drop by Duelling Hall tonight?" She asked. He called on his parents' training to seem unaffected at her suggestion. She'd told Grimos she wouldn't have time until Wednesday, but for him and the team she would push her other business back.

"That sounds like a good idea. I'll make sure that Blaise is there tonight as well. I am sure Jane would appreciate the peace and quiet." At his joke they both shared a laugh. Touching his arm, she shook her head and indicated for them to start walking. Like a gentleman he offered for her to go first. With a shy smile she started walking and he fell in step next to her. He'd wanted to offer his arm, but in this setting it didn't seem appropriate.

"Yes. I spoke to her this morning in the Lounge and your books are helping her greatly in her research. She offered me a first read of her paper and I am very excited. The amount she'd already put together was impressive." Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm. He listened interested.

"I am glad to hear it. I love my collection and was hesitant to lend her anything, but it seems as if it was a good idea." He looked to her for confirmation and she was nodding.

"I understand. I always get nervous when Harry or Ginny borrow any of my books. Don't get me started on Luna. I never know in what condition I'll get them back in. Sometimes they are pristine and at other times she has to buy it new." They shared a chuckle at this, understanding this kind of worry, while most people simply shrugged it off. For them though, books were more than paper and ink. They were sources of knowledge to be respected and cared for.

"Now you know why I don't let Blaise borrow mine. He has no respect for the written word. You should have seen his school books. Filled with doodles and almost every page bent over." He shuddered at this and saw her do the same. Their synchronised reaction surprised them both and they stopped. For a moment they stood there and then started laughing. Hermione had never felt this relaxed and at ease with another while discussing books. Most of her friends weren't as interested in books as she was, so it was nice to meet a kindred spirit.  
With a swish of her wand she opened a class room filled with lab tables, ingredient cupboards and a wide array of different cauldrons stacked against the back wall. Unlike the potions class room at Hogwarts, this one had an entire wall of windows, letting in the sunshine. It was a welcome departure for her from the usual potions laboratories she'd worked in. Certain potions required isolation from UV rays, but for that, the windows had been equipped with special filters. Setting down her bag on the lectern, she turned to Draco, who'd followed her inside. Breathing deep, she decided to simply ask. It was like taking off a band aid. Best to do it fast.

"I am having an appointment with my therapist tomorrow at three and I was wondering whether you would like to come along." She rushed out. From the way his face closed down immediately, she was surprised not to hear a loud clap. Swallowing she remained standing next to the lectern. This was a decision he had to make on his own and she wouldn't pressure him in any way. She could more than understand his reticence from what he had shared while they'd been sitting on his kitchen floor.

Draco breathed deep through his nose, clenching his teeth. He reminded himself that Hermione's therapist was nothing like the wanna-be's who'd rummaged through his head in Azkaban. Closing his eyes, he relaxed his shoulders while breathing out. The muscle tremors in his back eased and he re-opened his eyes. When he met hers, his own concerns were forgotten. She seemed crestfallen. Not because of his reaction to her suggestion, but because of the nature of his reaction. It seemed as if she knew the symptoms from her own experience.

"I am so sorry, Draco. I shouldn't have asked." She apologised in a soft voice. Shaking his head, he balled his hands into fists. His fingernails were digging painfully into his hands, but it wasn't in anger, but much more in frustration. He didn't want to be like this. He didn't want to have this kind of reaction to a simple profession. It wasn't fair to those who were actually dedicated to it and qualified to practice. Steeling himself, he made a decision.

"I...would be honoured to accompany you." He managed to say. His throat was dry as paper and it felt as if his esophagus was filled with sand. Her eyes widened a bit and she took a hesitant step forward.

"Are you sure? We could go another time." She offered. He shook his head.

"No. Better to do it now. Please do not hold it against me if I suddenly leave though." He offered a small, forced smile. When she crossed the room and hugged him, he was so surprised, that he couldn't move. After a moment, he loosely hugged her back and found the fit to be hauntingly perfect.

"It will be OK, Draco. I'll be there and I will not let anything happen to you. Adele is a muggle and as I said, you can leave at any time you want." She reassured him. Nodding, he held her a little tighter and surreptitiously leaned his head down to smell her hair. He couldn't explain it, but her scent always calmed him. It wouldn't be an option tomorrow though. He doubted that Hermione would appreciate him constantly pulling her in for a hug so that his sniffing her hair wouldn't be that obvious. For now, he would enjoy being this close to her and committing it to memory. He felt he would need all the good memories he could get tomorrow.

 **AN: Hey there. :) Another one out. Thanks for the continued support. It helps me when I get stuck. :D Have a great one!**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Draco had taken the time between his meeting with Hermione and until his training with the team to go to his office, down a stiff firewhiskey and get a handle on his roiling emotions. It was laughable, really. He had lived side by side with pure evil and yet the prospect of seeing a muggle therapist had him panicking. He was sure that Hermione would be able to explain his reaction, but he was at a loss. He would have the upper hand in the session tomorrow. At any time he would be able to simply apparate away, or better yet, just leave. Apparating while in emotional turmoil was never a good idea. It took away from your concentration, which could lead to serious splinching. Spending some time in the hospital was definitely not on his agenda. Between managing his team, preparing classes and figuring out how to approach the Hermione situation, his plate was full.

Closing the clasp of his duelling vest, he turned to the mirror in his wardrobe to make sure it all sat perfectly. Breathing deep, he smoothed the chest piece down. It would be all right. Hermione would be there. Yes. There was no use in obsessing over it now. The decision was made and he could break out in cold sweats tomorrow. Now he had to prepare the gym for his students. He had purchased some new training dummies and wanted to see what they were capable of. According to the supplier they were versatile and could be set to different difficulties, but he wanted to make sure they were safe for his students and what kind of spells were included.

He made his way over campus and waved to the students greeting him. He was still not quite used to being received so openly. Almost all his life peoples' reactions to him had been distant, cordial and at times fearful. Not to mention the mistrust and disdain he'd met in school and after being released from prison. It was a nice change of pace and leaving his company, where people had always treated him with a certain distant deference had turned out to be the right choice. He slept better, was more relaxed and his personal life was looking up for a change. He was still in contact with Jarvis and the others he'd left in charge, but as promised, he remained as a silent partner. Jarvis was doing an excellent job and while the Salem Sentinel had been at the forefront of the heated discussion whether a squib was viable as a CEO of a magical company, the public and more importantly their investors supported Jarvis. It helped that he was familiar to all the movers and shakers on the Eastern seaboard, as he had always accompanied Draco to all of his meetings. And Draco had never introduced him as a servant, but as his assistant. Five minutes of conversation with Jarvis was often all that was needed for any of Draco's business partners to re-assess the quiet man. For them it wasn't important whether Jarvis was able to perform magic, but much more whether he would be able to make them money. And Jarvis could. That was all they cared about. The similarities in their public perception struck Draco out of the blue. Jarvis, the squib, who was now a full-fledged, respected member of wizarding society and him, the ex-Death Eater, who now was known for his philanthropy and equal opportunity company. Whereas they before had been pariahs in certain circles, they were both now accepted and respected pillars of the community. When he'd first begun turning the company around, he'd almost daily received letters from his father, questioning his sanity and business sense. One letter to his mother had put a stop to that. Ever since she had assumed leadership of the company in the UK, she was often in contact with him to discuss business. He had been happy to hear that her and Jarvis had come to an agreement, when Jarvis had travelled to London to meet with her, since she was the worldwide head of Malfoy Enterprises. While she had turned her views around after the war and his release from prison, she was still sceptical when it came to Jarvis. He had said the right things apparently, since she had been full of praise for him in her letter afterwards. Maybe his aunt had worked her over, he speculated, since she had been full of questions about Jarvis in her letters lately as well. Which made him curious, since Jarvis had never mentioned meeting his aunt. Something to ponder and occupy his mind, while waiting for the dreaded appointment with Hermione's therapist.

He'd looked up Adele Miller with the help of his old receptionist, since he was still wary of computers and preferred books, parchment and quill to go about his business. The internet, in his mind, was the equivalent to the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. Filled with wonders, but also with dangers he more often than not never saw coming. It had provided his secretary with no end of amusement when he'd had to come to her for help, since he'd opened every email he'd received that day, including one with a virus attached. Computers were not for him. Muggles seemed to like to live on the edge, if even their appliances could get diseases. Which is why he was meticulous in keeping his cell phone clean at all times. And he always kept it warm. If it ever got sick, he would have a problem, since all his contacts' phone numbers were saved in it. Maybe he should transcribe them into his organizer to be on the safe side.

Opening the doors to the gym, he smiled. The wide hall's honey-coloured floors were freshly waxed, he had restored the stained glass windows showcasing different runes and spells and the overhead lights had been exchanged for the chandeliers he'd bought. Breathing deep and setting his arms akimbo, he nodded. This was more like it. Before, the windows had been cheap crystal and already cracked in some places due to wide hexes hitting them. He had no idea what had happened to the original chandeliers, since the gym had obviously had some before he came, indicated by the special hooks and pulley systems in place already. The replacement lights had been much too bright, giving the gym a sterile feel to it. He'd found that being relaxed and at ease made training much easier. Besides, the low light helped one identify to some extent what kind of spell was being used by the colour of light emitted from the wand.

At the end of the gym, six tall, wooden boxes stood in a row. He approached them and took the manifest from the little documents pouch affixed to the first. Checking the boxes and the serial numbers stamped on them, he checked whether he had received what he'd paid for. Satisfied he put the manifest away and opened the first crate. The dummy was much more advanced than what he'd seen during his training. It resembled a mannequin in that it actually had legs and it's torso didn't resemble a drum. Curiously he examined each limb and noted that each joint was fully flexible and able to move like the real thing. Turning the dummy over, he waved his wand over its back and a hatch popped open. Thanks to the training he'd received from the manufacturer, he quickly identified the correct dials and the silver plating upon which he had to place his wand to activate the dummy. First he had to specify the grade of difficulty and grade of aggression and then activate the dummy by placing his wand on the plate. Before the dummies had been shipped or even assembled, the manufacturer had come by with the plates and keyed them to Blaise's and his wands. This ensured that no one could misuse or tamper with the dummies. Out of curiousity he had asked what kind of enchantments were placed on the plates, but the middle-aged wizard had not been forthcoming and had vehemently told him not to try and fiddle with the plates or the company would not be held liable for any injuries or deaths resulting. This had sobered Draco immediately. The dummies were of the highest quality and normally used for Guard training around the world. As such, they were capable of devastating magic.

Activating the dummy in front of him was spooky, since the mannequin suddenly stood on his own, swivelled its head to take in the room and automatically approached the nearest duelling carpet. It took position, a practice wand in its hand. Nodding, Draco rose and took position opposite. Raising his wand in greeting, the mannequin copied him mechanically. Taking two steps back, he fell into the traditional ready pose. The moment he did, the dummy started to move. He had set it on medium and found it to be adequate. The 'voice' it used for uttering the spells was a bit hollow, but then that was a recording. Raising both his hands in the air, he stopped the duel and the dummy stood down. Nodding to himself, he moved down from the carpet and to the back of the dummy. Two taps of his wand later, the dummy fell in on itself like a puppet with its strings cut. He would need to personalise the dummies, because their current matte black finish made them very intimidating. Good. Something other to think about than that damn appointment.

xXx

Emilio had stowed his books and backpack in his dorm room and changed into his duelling outfit. Professor Malfoy had made it clear that all of them were to wear the black trousers, boots, white shirt and duelling vest whenever he gave them classes. Whether they would be doing freestyle or not. Checking in front of his mirror whether any of the pieces were crooked, he nodded to himself, satisfied. Smiling to himself, he remembered that his mother had framed a picture of him he'd taken with his phone of himself while dressed just like this. She was so proud of him and let everyone in the neighbourhood know it. Since his mother and grandparents were constantly working, he hadn't yet had time to see them, but they were phoning each other every weekend. Tiny was also calling from time to time and whenever he felt as if things were becoming too much, both his family and friends were there to lend an ear.

A knock on his door had him look up. James was in his duelling uniform as well, despite his hand not being healed yet. After classes James had gone to see the campus nurse and she'd officially banned him from performing magic for the next week in order for his hand to heal properly. Nonetheless he wanted to at least observe. Emilio knew that his friend could learn a lot from that alone.

"You ready?" James asked in his deep voice. Emilio nodded and closed his closet.

"Yeah. You want to go over the charms homework tonight?" He asked. James nodded. Together they made their way down the hall. Other members of their team were leaving their own rooms, all of them in their uniforms. Gunter gave them a smile and a nudge with his shoulder.

"Ready, guys?" He asked in his accented English. Emilio nodded with a grin. Over the last weeks the German was the only one among the team who had made an effort to get to know them better. Professor Malfoy had also paired them for freestyle training a few times and he was always open for questions concerning assignments. Emilio liked the guy. His mannerisms and belongings made it clear that he came from money, but he didn't act entitled at all. Not like some of the other students. Even some of his own team mates were kind of dicks about it at times.

"What do you think is on today?" Emilio asked, as they left Duelling Hall with the rest. Gunter shrugged and turned his face towards the sun, closing his eyes.

"Don't know. Probably more correction of our stances. It's a nice day out today." Gunter finished with a contented sigh. Emilio couldn't help but smile and saw that James' lips were lifting as well. Being around Pollenweber was relaxing for some reason. He was always calm and...dreamy for lack of a better word. He was also the only one, who had suggested to further refine their revenge plans and do some research into Stuart first. Emilio guessed that they should have taken Gunter more seriously, but his absentminded behaviour often led them to believe he wasn't listening or snoozing. A misconception he wouldn't continue to make in the future.

As they entered the duelling gym, they all stopped short. Each duelling carpet already had something standing on it. It was clear that the figures on the carpets were not human. Unsure they looked around and found their professor waiting for them.

"Please come closer. Do not be shy. What you are seeing on the carpets is the latest in duel training hardware. These dummies will help you train. They are spelled to respond to certain cues. Step on the platform, bow and assume the ready position and they will attack. Raise both your hands when you wish to end the duel and they will stand down. Currently I have set them on the easiest difficulty, so that all of you can become used to them. On the weekends the duelling gym will be open to you from now on and either me or Professor Zabini will activate the dummies for you. Any questions?" Professor Malfoy's gaze swept over them and while Emilio was curious why this was happening now, he held his tongue. He was sure that his professor had a good reason. When no one spoke up, Professor Malfoy nodded.

"Very well. Take your positions and watch your fellow team members and the dummies. Note that the dummies have been spelled to assume the correct stances. Check and compare between them and your fellow team members. The first competition is not that far away ladies and gentlemen. Let's get to work." With a wave of his hand he indicated for them to form up. With unsure glances to their fellow team members, the first six ascended the stairs to the duelling carpets. The dummies were wearing similar uniforms, but their heads were simply matte black, as were their hands. If Professor Malfoy was going for intimidating, he'd achieved it.

After two hours they had become used to the mechanic voices and alien appaerance of the dummies. They were exhausted, but guardedly optimistic. While the lesson today was not about outsmarting the dummies and much more about their stances, the contented nod from their professor had them all stand a little taller.

"Very good. We still need to work on your stances this week, but I will incrementally increase the difficulty. That means for you to stay sharp. Wednesday and Friday will be dedicated to freestyle duelling. Please wear your workout clothes on those days, as they allow for better movement. When you return to Duelling Hall you will find the duel roster posted on the community board." At this they all moved closer to him. This was the first indication they'd had of this not simply being a university class, but a competitive sport.

"The roster will remain as is until after our first competition. Afterwards there might be changes. Please get acquainted with your duelling partners. During the competition I am not allowed to give advice. When you are on the carpet, only your second and support are allowed to give tips and suggestions. Only between bouts can Professor Granger, Zabini or I offer you insights." Professor Malfoy's gaze swept over them and Emilio had to swallow, imagining being on his own with his team mate, while spectators were watching. If they lost, it would be on them. During training Professor Malfoy would often shout instructions at them to improve their performance and to show them what to look out for. During a competition that would be out. He would have to trust his team members to fulfill that role. It was a daunting thought.

"Good work today. Have a good evening." With a smile and a wave they were dismissed. Clustering together almost immediately, they eagerly discussed who would be paired with whom. Emilio hoped it would be James. He knew him the longest and was comfortable with him as his partner. They understood each other and during a bout they rarely had to speak to get a tactic in place.

"Do you think they'll let Francesca and me compete freestyle?" Keisha's voice roused Emilio from his thoughts. Smiling brightly, he hugged her to him.

"Sure. Why shouldn't they? The two of you can kick ass when you're not pre-occupied with fluttering your eyelashes at the guys." Grinning he dodged her elbow.

"Shut it wise guy. As long as I don't get stuck with Jeremy or Sabrina, I'm happy." She groused. Worried he took her in.

"Not a fan?" He asked carefully. Snorting she shook her head and checked whether either of the two were close.

"Nope. Jeremy's an idiot, who doesn't take any of this seriously. For him it's all just a lark. Something to occupy his time until his father hands him some kind of business so that he looks as if he's accomplished something. He can't shut up about it. As if being handed everything is something to be proud of. What a joke! And Sabrina! Ugh! All that sugary sweetness just gets on my nerves. You don't buy that innocent act of hers, do you?" She asked a little aggressively. Smartly Emilio didn't say anything and simply shook his head. Huffing she nodded.

"Good. Don't fall for her routines. I don't like how she's been hanging around James either. And she's constantly cozying up to Francis! I bet you she never even knew he existed before she got on the team!" She growled. Suppressing a smile, he finally knew where the animosity towards Sabrina came from. Yes, he didn't like her overly bubbly and smily manner either, but all in all she was OK. And from what he'd seen, Sabrina wasn't romantically interested in Francis, but possibly James. Something he wasn't touching with a ten foot pole. James had been badly wounded once. None of them wanted to bring up that old business.

"Will do. Now let's see who you're going to be paired with." He suggested, after they entered Duelling Hall. All of the others ahead of them were already clustered around the community board. A beautifully drawn roster hung in the middle. Stepping closer, Emilio wanted to check for his name, when he realised that the roster wasn't printed. It was hand drawn. Amazed he took it in. Each name was written in a flowing script. No blotches, uneven lines or corrections. In the lower right hand corner it was signed by Professor Malfoy. How long had this taken? How much discipline? Once more he was floored by his Professor's ability. Shaking his head a little, he again looked for his name. Breathing a sigh of relief, he saw that he'd been slotted for the freestyle team. He still learned the traditional part along with the others, but it didn't come as naturally to him as some of his peers. His grin dimmed a little, when he saw not James' name next to his, but Gunter's. All things considered it could be worse. Gunter was a nice guy and with a little work they would make a good team. Before he could check what had become of his friends, he suddenly had an armful of Keisha and she was hugging him so hard, it was almost impossible to breathe.

"Francesca and I are a team!" She crowed happily. Chuckling he hugged her.

"Congrats, but please ease up a bit? I need to breathe and stuff." He admonished. Laughing she let go of him and mock punched his shoulder.

"Quit whining you..." He never knew what she was about to say, as Francis stormed past them, pushing them out of the way. Both of them were surprised at his behaviour. Normally he was polite and quiet. Concerned both looked after him, as he basically sprinted up the stairs.

"What's up with him?" Emilio asked. Francesca stepped up to them with a worried frown on her face.

"I don't know. He took a look at the roster and then his face kind of closed up and he rushed off." She said, shrugging. All three turned back to the roster, now searching for Francis' name. He was right at the top next to Jamal and, much to Keisha's dismay, Sabrina's.

"I don't get what's wrong. He wanted to be on the traditional team." Emilio said. Keisha shook her head and huffed.

"Yeah, but he wanted to be a duellist. See? It says here he's support." She pointed to the moniker above Francis' name. Both Francesca and Emilio winced in compassion for their friend.

"Shit." Emilio muttered. While he didn't know Francis as well as the others, but he liked the guy.

Before they could form a plan to lift their friend's spirits, the door behind them opened and redirected their attention. The girls immediately smiled, when they saw who it was. Emilio quickly stepped forward to take some of the heavy bags off of Professor Granger. Smiling she thanked him for his assistance.

"Thank you, Emilio. Would you mind putting this in the kitchen?" She asked. Nodding he eagerly inspected the contents of the bags. Vegetables and a whole salami, bread and some cans greeted his eyes. He wasn't sure what she would make out of it, but he was sure it was going to taste great. He noticed that no one around him was talking anymore and looked up from his inspection. Keisha, Francesca and Professor Granger were looking at him with amused smiles. Blushing he hefted the bags and carried them to the kitchen. The girls were chuckling behind him and chatting with their professor, as she followed him.

"This is so great you coming by, Professor Granger." Francesca exclaimed and helped the professor out of her coat and hung it on the usual spot in the kitchen. Smiling Professor Granger thanked her and put on the apron. Curious other team members looked to them.

"Thanks for the assistance. I am sorry I couldn't drop by in the mean time, but, as you know, classes take up a lot of my time now." She explained, while twisting her hair into a haphazard knot and secured it at the back of her head with a hair tie. Keisha groaned, while leaning to the kitchen island.

"Do I ever! There's so much to do and catch up on." She complained, helping to set out the ingredients from the bags. She didn't know what their professor wanted to cook, but she assumed that if they didn't help, they wouldn't get any. Francesca rolled her eyes at Keisha's antics, while Professor Granger gave an indulgent smile.

"It's always hard in the beginning. I had to start from scratch myself when I started at Hogwarts. Before I turned eleven, I had no idea I was a witch. I just knew weird stuff sometimes happened around me." Professor Granger offered Keisha some peppers. "Please clean and slice these. As you can see, with hard work and determination, the gap you are currently facing cannot stop you from achieving anything you want." She held their gazes for a moment. They all gave small nods. Jamal and James joined them in the kitchen, having to push some of the others out of the way. Within minutes, Professor Granger had them working on cleaning and cutting vegetables into bite sized pieces. Meanwhile their professor had cleared a large area on one of the counters and was rolling out dough.

"Can I help?" A hesitant voice had Hermione turn around.

"Ah, Ms Felidae. Yes, please. Could you get the oven's baking trays and put baking paper on them? Since we're preparing dinner for all of you, we are making pizza." With a wave of her hand, Hermione indicated the Southies behind her busy with preparing the vegetables which would later be the topping. Lorelei smiled at that.

"Sounds great. I'll get right on those trays." She said and started hunting for the baking trays in the cupboards around the oven. Before they knew it, the kitchen was filled to overflowing with students, who all wanted to help. Especially when it came to putting toppings together. It was something completely new to them to see one of their professors cook for them. When the last tray was in the oven, Hermione washed her hands and hung up her apron.

"Head up and wash up everyone. Those pizzas won't be ready for another fifteen minutes." She shooed them out of the kitchen. Laughing and eager for the pizzas to be done and ready for consumption, the students left for the stairs.

"Feeding the ravenous pack, Granger?" Blaise drawled behind her. Slapping his arm, she picked up her glass of water and moved to the spacious common room. Following her, Blaise plopped down in one of the comfortable couch chairs.

"Draco asked me to come over tonight to explain about the support role. He mentioned that he would ask you to come as well." She took a seat opposite him on the sofa, leaning back and crossing her legs.

"Yes. He expects our students to have questions. Though I don't know why. Being on the freestyle team is pretty straight forward." He complained. She threw him a knowing smile.

"You wanted to visit Jane tonight?" She asked. Sighging he drew imaginary designs on the leather armrest.

"I'd planned to, but she shot me down when I saw her today. Something about getting more research done. Do you think Draco will tell her she can't have more of his stupid books if I ask him to?" There was a little bit of a whine in his voice. She couldn't help herself and had to laugh.

"I don't think so, sorry Blaise. And besides, part of why you like Jane is her intellect, yes?" He groaned at this and sunk deeper into his seat.

"Yes. That doesn't make it any better. What am I supposed to do all by my lonesome tonight?"

"Well, you are a grown man, so I am sure as an adult you are perfectly capable of coming up with something on your own. Maybe try reading a book?" She managed to get out without laughing. Grumbling he shook his head.

"Meh. I have nothing worth reading right now. Do you think she would mind if I came over. Just for a few minutes."

"I can't really say. You know her better than I do. Would she mind?"

"Probably not. As long as I don't interrupt her. I could watch another play on her telemission." He mused and looked to her for confirmation. Biting her lip to keep from laughing she only nodded and hummed in agreement.

xXx

Francis sat on his bed in his room and stared at his hands. Support. Again. He'd trained so hard, given it his all and again he'd not made the cut. He knew that his reflexes could be better, but with Professor Malfoy and the others he'd thought he'd at least get a chance. Biting his lip and breathing through his nose, he tried to keep the tears at bay. His eyes were burning with the unspent tears, but he breathed through it. Standing, he almost ripped the duelling uniform off himself. Normally he took care in putting it on and taking it off. He'd taken pride in wearing it. Now it only seemed a mockery of his aspirations and dreams. Leaving it on the floor, he stomped over to his closet and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Slumping down at his desk, he put his head in his hands. His father would be disappointed. Again. Why didn't anything ever go right? A knock on his door pulled him out of his misery.

"Yes?" He asked in a hoarse voice. The door opened a bit and Keisha stuck her head in. Concerned she took him in and frowned when she saw his uniform on the floor.

"You OK?" She asked softly and closed the door behind her. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he cleared his throat.

"Not really, but I will be." He attempted a smile for her. Nodding she gave a small smile back and rubbed his shoulder.

"It's going to be fine, Francis. The professors never do anything without a reason. They are all here, so I guess you can ask them after dinner. Professor Granger brought all the stuff needed for pizza." She tried to cheer him.

"OK. I'll ask after dinner." He said and felt a new kind of determination coming over him. Yes. He would ask them. Granted, he wasn't the fastest, but he was the best tactician. That had to count for something, right? Surprise pulled him from his musings, when she hugged him and left without another word. Softly he touched his cheek. Had he imagined it, or had Keisha just given him a kiss?

Dinner was different than the other nights, since the rest of the students had moved into Duelling Hall. Normally each of them would make his or her own food and either eat in the dining or common room. Today the pizzas they had made were set out buffet style with sodas on the dining room table, while all of the team members mingled and talked. Their professors were in the middle of it. While Professor Zabini was perfectly happy to eat the pizza from a napkin on his hand like Professor Granger, Professor Malfoy had sat down transferring his slice with knife and fork to a plate and cut it into bite sized pieces. The Southies were used to having dinner with their professors and were not shy about asking questions and joking with them. After some time, the other students adjusted to this different kind of relationship with their teachers and joined in. When the pizza was finished and everyone full, Professor Malfoy called for their attention.

"As you all have had an opportunity to look at the roster, I am sure you have questions about the roles you have been assigned. Freestyle teams, please accompany Professor Zabini to the common room. Support, please join Professor Granger in the dining room and traditional duellists and seconds with me to my office." As their professor had asked, they broke into groups and followed their respective professor to the room assigned. Before Francis could follow the rest into the dining room, Keisha clasped his hand in hers and gave a small squeeze.

"Remember what I said." She whispered. Nodding he breathed deep. He had been prepared to go toe to toe with Professor Malfoy. Not Professor Granger. He wasn't sure how to approach her with this. He wasn't good when it came to conflict and especially not when it was with women. As one of the last, he entered the dining room. As Professor Granger waved her hand, the old style sliding doors recessed into the walls closed behind him.

"Welcome." She smiled and sat at the head of the table. Slowly each of them took a seat. She took them in for a moment before speaking again.

"I am gathering from your expressions that when you read support it was not what you were signing up for, when you tried out to join the duelling team." Some of them, including Francis blushed and looked down.

"There's no need to be shy about it. Everyone looks at the duellists and thinks that they are versed in all the spells and how quick they have to think, etc. etc. While the quick thinking part is correct, the strategy, tactics and in-duel decisions are made by their support staff. In other words, you." At this they all looked up, surprised. She smiled softly and folded her hands, while raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yes. Professor Malfoy, Zabini or I cannot give you any advice during a duel. Adjusting the tactics or overall strategy during a duel will be up to you. Not the second, not the duelist, you. Which makes you the most important part of the team. It is your responsibility to know your duellist's opponent and to help him or her defeat them. You call for a time-out and you decide when the second will take over. All of you are ahead of your peers when it comes to spells, hexes and potions. As such, you will be the ones to call out plays to your duellist and with the board approved potions treat him or her if needed. Other teams have specialists for the treatment, but we trust **you** to take care of your team mates.  
"Others might try to belittle you for being support, but do not let those comments get to you. Those who really understand the finesse that is duelling will know what your contribution is. And what a difficult job it can be. I am not trying to fool you or talk the position up so you will be content. What I have just laid out for you is what Professors Malfoy, Zabini and I will be expecting from each and everyone of you the minute your duellist steps onto the carpet. Any questions?" She was heartened to discover the formerly slouching students sitting much straighter and with a new gleam in their eyes. Francis felt a new glow in his chest. He'd often wondered why duellists often had so many people with them and now he knew. And he wouldn't disappoint. He would be the best support Sabrina and Jamal could have.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Jamal looked curiously at the bus stopped in front of the Salem University gates. He hadn't seen it before. Intellectually he knew that the university would have need of one to transport the quidditch team to their matches. Port keys weren't used often in the densely populated areas of the eastern US as the probability of muggles seeing something they shouldn't was too high. As a result, almost all wizards and witches in the US owned a car or regularly used muggle public transportation. Floo networks were only set up between family members and official places, like ministry outposts, hospitals and 'hubs', which were most often than not pubs or bars, which led to wizarding districts. Apparition was also restricted to those areas. The laws were much more lax in the mid west, as the population density was much lower. He'd heard that ministry employees were licensed to apparate in muggle environments at will, but when he'd taken his test, he'd been handed a book-sized pamphlet detailing when, where and under which circumstances he was allowed to apparate.

Francesca seemed just as surprised as him. They stuck together as they did most of the time be it in classes or when studying. They'd known each other since primary school and she was one of the few people who he had trusted enough to take care of his mother and Nana from time to time. As such, she had been aware of his difficult situation and had been the one to pressure Professor Malfoy the most to seek him out. She'd also kept Jamal's mother's condition from her family at his request, despite her mother's constant nagging. She loved them, but sometimes their loud, invasive and meddling ways could get on her nerves.

"Do you know what's happening?" She whispered to Jamal. He shook his head.

"Nope. I was surprised when the notice said to meet here instead of in the duelling gym for Professor Malfoy's class." He shrugged. "Maybe he has arranged for a test duel competition?" He speculated. She mulled this over. It would be something Professor Malfoy was capable of. She liked him, but the way he threw money around as if it was nothing intimidated her at times. She often wondered what it would be like to never have to worry about money. She'd asked Francis about it, since he came from an affluent family. He'd cured her of that misconception. While his family was wealthy, he himself only got a limited allowance that wasn't much higher than what she'd made on her last job. The only difference was that none of his went towards rent, utilities, food or insurance. All that was taken care of by his parents. As was the tuition and study materials. When he'd joined the duelling team, he had dipped deep into his savings to buy the necessary materials set forth by the professors. According to him, he had done some calculating and had hunted for the books in the library and in the host of used books stores in Salem, so as to save money. He had taken her to some of those stores, where she and the others had picked up their own copies for the remedial classes they took. None of them wanted to smooch off the professors' charity, but earn their own way.

Speaking of, she wondered where Francis was. She had seen him among the group, but lately he seemed to be avoiding her.

"Did I say something wrong to Francis?" She asked Jamal with a frown. She liked the guy and wanted to make amends if necessary. Jamal gave her a lopsided smile and hitched his backpack up. He had no idea where they were going, but if he had any free time on the way, he wanted to be able to get some studying in. Most of the others had a backpack with them as well.

"You really don't know?" He asked amused. Shaking her head, she nudged him in the shoulder.

"No, obviously not, or I wouldn't be asking. So spill already." She urged. Chuckling he nodded.

"Fine. But pinkie promise not to tell?" He held up his hand, pinkie extended. She grabbed it with her own.

"Promise. Now quit stalling." She was a little annoyed now.

"Relax. I just wanted to make sure that this stays between us." He looked around them, but none of the others were close enough to overhear if they kept talking in quiet tones. They were all still discussing on how to proceed in the case of James and Stuart. Professor Zabini's speech had pulled them up short. Their hastily laid plans for an ambush of some sort had quickly been laid to rest. A more subtle approach was obviously needed.

"You didn't notice that he was always hanging around you, trying to spend time with you? Then on Saturday you blew him off and ran off with his best friend?" He explained, watching her face as her eyes slowly got bigger and her mouth dropped open a little.

"Shit! You're kidding me, right? I mean, I like the guy, but not like that." She whispered hoarsely. Worried she nibbled on her lower lip. "What do I do?"

He shrugged, a hesitant expression on his face.

"I don't know, Francesca. Try talking to him. Just be honest. I'd prefer a frank discussion compared to weeks of awkwardness and stilted, careful exchanges of meaningless platitudes."

Letting the air slip from her lungs in a huff, she nodded.

"OK, yeah. I mean, it's only fair, right? And I wouldn't want to give the impression of stringing him along. And it's not as if he isn't attractive or anything, but he just isn't my type you know." She knew she was rambling, but just couldn't stop herself. With a smile he waved it off.

"Don't worry about it, OK. I am sure he'll understand. One can't help how one feels, right? Forcing emotions is never a good thing. Just look at all the literary proof." He winked as he said that. She gave him a small grin and nodded.

"Sure Shakespeare."

Leaning to each other, they shared a moment of amiable silence. Before any further discussion on the Francis problem could commence, Professor Zabini appeared next to the gates, calling for their attention. Confused the team turned to him. They had expected Professor Malfoy and their training session for the day had already taken place this morning.

"Gather round, gather round my pretties!" Professor Zabini called out. Grinning the students came closer. When he wasn't herding them around as their physical coach, they all appreciated his brand of humour when he was 'off-duty' as he himself called it.

"We are doing a little excursion today! Professor Malfoy has a previous engagement and as this was my idea and the person in charge is expecting me instead of him anyway, I get to herd you around on this trip. So, be the good, well-behaved students I know lurk somewhere under your hormone driven exteriors and get inside the bus. We don't have all day." With a flourish, he bowed and as if on cue, the doors to bus opened. Grinning the students flocked to the doors. Excited and curious they filed onto the bus. As was usual in such situations, a bit of shoving and friendly ribbing was going on, since friends and cliques wanted to sit together. Of course the cool kids wanted to sit in the back and an argument started about who exactly those cool kids were. Jeremy was at the forefront of that discussion. Francis didn't particularly care about that and wanted to sit in the front, like he'd done almost his entire life. The view was much better from there anyway. Sabrina however seemed to have other ideas and was trying to pull him to the back.

"Come on, Francis! Sitting in the back is much more fun." She cajoled. Blushing a bit, since the others were turning their attention to them, he tried to extricate himself from her grip.

"Thanks, but I like sitting up front." He tried. Snorting she waved that off.

"Psh! You don't have to lie. No one likes sitting up front." She said with a laugh. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the Southies had taken seats up front as well and he'd much rather sit with them, despite him then being close to Francesca. At least he knew most of them and they treated him like a friend and not like a portable library, like Jeremy was wont to do. James and Jamal registered his distress, but it was Keisha's dark face, which prompted him to quickly think of something.

"No, really. I like sitting up front and besides, sitting in the back makes me queasy." The last was a flat out lie, but it seemed to do the trick. Sabrina let go of him as if she'd burned her fingers.

"Really?" She asked, her face not expressing disgust, but concern. Nodding, he cleared his throat.

"Yeah. It's fine though. Thanks for the offer." He offered a small smile and quickly made his way back to his original seat. Breathing deep, he closed his eyes. Whew. Dodged that bullet. Sabrina was just too enthusiastic in his opinion. He was sure she meant well, but she had such an overpowering personality. Jamal leant over and tapped him softly on the shoulder.

"You OK?" He asked. Francis nodded and pulled a notebook from his backpack.

"Sure. Just a simple misunderstanding." He said, uncomfortable with all the attention suddenly on him. In an effort to escape it, he raised the notebook and hid behind it.

Any further discussion was cut short as Professor Zabini boarded the bus last.

"Good, everyone's here." He smiled brightly. The doors closed and the driver pulled into traffic. "Lean back, ladies and gentlemen and enjoy the ride. We will arrive at our destination in about ten minutes. I would have preferred a little extra run, but Professor Malfoy vetoed." Some of the students cheered at that and Zabini threw them an indulgent smile.  
"Don't think I won't forget your lack of enthusiasm, backbenchers!" He threatened in jest and took a seat himself. It wasn't a long trip, but he didn't want to hold on to the seat back next to him the entire way. The death grip it would have developed into would have seriously cramped his style.

Sabrina was having a lot of fun with Jeremy and the others in the back, discussing possible destinations and the gossip currently flowing around campus. Including one rumour, which had the girls all brimming with sighs. Namely that Professor Granger was being pursued by not only the absolutely dreamy Coach Grimos, but also by their very own Professor Malfoy. Sabrina thought it the most romantic thing ever, while Lorelei seemed hellbent on harshing her buzz.

"Oh come off it! Professor Granger doesn't have time for that and even if she did. She and Grimos?! Are you serious? She could do so much better." Lorelei drawled, while flipping through her magazine. Sabrina's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What are you on about? What's not to like? He'd handsome, funny, looks absolutely edible in those quidditch robes of his and..."

"And can't talk about anything but himself and quidditch." Lorelei interrupted Sabrina's speech, not even looking up. "Come on, Sabrina. I like quidditch as much as the next wizard or witch, but constantly talking about it would get old pretty fast. And I didn't get the impression that Professor Granger likes the sport all that much."

"Who does?!" Sabrina snorted.

"Hey!" Jeremy complained, but Sabrina waved him off.

"Oh shut it, Jer. Not everyone loves quidditch. But those quidditch robes. Hm-hm! Come on, Lorelei. Even you have to admit that Grimos looks mighty fine in those." Sabrina cajoled, wiggling her eyebrows. Sighing in a put-upon way, but blushing a bit, Lorelei gave a small nod.

"Yeah, fine, whatever." She grumbled. Sabrina laughed and leaned back.

"See? Yummy. Who wouldn't want a piece of that? And don't even get me started on Professor M. All sophisticated and gentlemanly? He can be my prince charming any day." She hummed with a naugthy smile. Grumbling Jeremy nudged her in the shoulder.

"Hey! I can be a gentleman." He protested, hurt at being left out of the hot guy list. Sabrina turned to him with a level stare.

"Yeah. When it gets you something. Professor M is always a gentleman. You would only open a door for me so that you can stare at my ass when I pass by." She accused. Jeremy shrugged with a smirk.

"So? It's a fine ass. What's a man to do?" He asked, winking. The guys around them chuckled, while the women groaned and rolled their eyes.

As the bus slowed down, Sabrina glanced out the window and furrowed her brow in confusion. She knew this neighbourhood and the building they came to a stop at.

"What are we doing here?" She asked no one in particular. Lorelei looked outside, putting her magazine away and shrugged.

"Beats me. Guess we'll just have to wait for Professor Zabini to tell. Why do you ask?" She inquired, while sitting up. Around her the other students got out of their relaxed slouches as well, since it was obvious they were about to disembark from the bus.

"That's the Peabody Conservatory for Magical Music." Sabrina pointed outside at the building they'd stopped in front of.

"You do music?" Jeremy asked, impressed. Sabrina snorted.

"If you call strangling a harp music then sure, yeah, I can do music." She quipped. All of them laughed a little at that. Lorelei got up, when the doors of the bus opened and Professor Zabini instructed them to line up outside.

"Then how do you know? Is that friend of yours here? What's her name again? Ella or something?" She asked. Sabrina nodded.

"Yeah and it's Eliana. She's been attending Peabody's for three years now. Got in early on account of her sublime talent. Her mother's words, not mine or hers for that matter. She'd been planning to go to Salem Uni with me."

"That's gotta suck." Lorelei said with compassion. She was only grateful her parents weren't that pushy. They had shot down some of her plans for her future, but only because they were concerned about her future ability to provide for herself as she now realised. Back then of course she'd all thought it terribly unfair and uncool. Why wouldn't their parents want her to be a bassist in the next female wizarding grunge band?!

"Yeah, but Eliana is like crazy good, so I kinda understand her parents. Not wanting her to waste her talent and all that." Sabrina shrugged and rose as well. "Still, she should have had the option to choose."

Further discussion on the subject was halted, as everyone started to move to get out of the bus and onto the sidewalk. Professor Zabini had them assemble and counted heads to make sure none remained on the bus, turned around and led them inside the conservatory. The entrance hall alone was huge, with marbled floors and columns. A granite reception the size of a minivan barred their way from further exploration and four people seemed hard at work behind it. Their professor told them to wait, while he stepped up to the counter and worked his own kind of magic on the older woman facing them. Her pinched expression almost immediately vanished upon their professor starting to speak. The boys sighed, some shaking their heads. While they admired Professor Malfoy for his elegant, old-world manners, it was Professor Zabini most of them idolised due to his way with women. It seemed as if he was able to charm just about any woman with laughable ease. While waiting, they looked around with interest. Other youths passed them with various instrument cases, throwing them confused glances. None of them approached though. The range of clothing styles was not as all encompassing as it was on campus. Some wore robes and muggle clothes of the finest make, while some looked as if they'd dressed in the dark. The soft discussions around the duelling team were coloured with a plethora of accents, making it clear that the student body of Peabody's was made up of mostly foreign students. As it was one of the most renowned musical institutions of the magical world, this didn't come as a particular surprise.

As they stood waiting, soft music started to filter through one of the upstairs doors not visible to them from their current vantage point. Some looked up to the ceiling, trying to pinpoint where the music was coming from and were presented with a giant mural inlaid into the domed ceiling. It was a stunning, vibrant image of an orchestra complete with choir, conductor and all musical instruments depicted in astonishing detail. While studying the mural, they didn't notice their professor coming back.

"All right everyone. Follow me please and stay quiet. Hands in your pockets, but no whistling. Apparently it's a rule here." He winked, at which his students chuckled. Waving he indicated for them to follow. Together they ascended the broad, polished staircase behind the reception. At the landing, it split into two, granting access to stairwells on the left and right-hand side. Professor Zabini ignored those though and opened the large, intricately carved doors right in front of him. With a slight bow, he invited them inside.

"Get seats in the back and don't talk." He instructed, which had them confused again. Why were they here and what was all this about?! All their questions were benched however, the moment they crossed the threshold. It seemed as if with a single step, they'd travelled back in time. Around them were rows upon rows of seats covered in red velvet. On the walls left and right of the stage, VIP boxes covered in the same red rose to the ceiling. Their balconies lovingly embellished with golden and silver highlights. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, spreading soft light through the concert hall, lightly reflecting off the polished oak floors, where the thick dark blue carpets were not covering it. Waving for them not to dawdle, Professor Zabini ushered them into one of the back rows and sat down. Still confused they followed his example. It didn't take long, before students of the institute started milling on the stage. They generally behaved like normal students. Laughing, talking to each other and friendly shoving going on. They had loosely assumed a formation. Girls on the left, mingling with boys in the middle and again girls on the right. The joking and loose atmosphere on stage fled the second another man joined them. His snug vest, worn over a dark blue shirt and the black slacks showed him to have a wiry, athletic build. His dark brown hair was combed and styled to within an inch of its life. It seemed as if the instructor had arrived. The duelling team was floored by the reaction of his students. None of them fidgeted. Their concentration was immediately on their teacher and their formation became tighter without him having to say anything or moving.

Sabrina had been studying the students on stage, trying to find her friend. Just when the teacher stepped up, she found Eliana. With a bright smile she waved, but her friend didn't react. Weird. Why wouldn't she wave back? Sabrina was sure Eliana had seen her. She waved again. Again, no reaction from Eliana. Confused she looked to the others, who were throwing her confused glances of their own.

"What are you doing?" Jeremy whispered. Huffing Sabrina looked to the stage again.

"That's my friend up there. Second row, fifth girl from the left. Why isn't she waving back?" She whispered to him. Feeling watched, she looked up and right into Professor Zabini's disapproving face. Feeling caught, she tried an apologetic smile that had gotten her out of hot water for her entire life. His demeanour didn't change and she settled sullenly back into her seat. Grumbling she elbowed the chuckling Jeremy next to her in the side. Before he could retaliate, movement on the stage caught their attention. The teacher lifted his hands, his students drew themselves up, almost coming to attention. The moment his hands and arms started to move, his students responded by opening their mouths and singing. Some of the duelling students had been dragged to classical concerts by their parents and weren't that impressed, but others, who had never seen anything like this, were fascinated. The group of musical students no longer seemed to be separate beings, but one entity, producing beautiful music at the hands of their teacher. None of them understood what they were singing. The melody was familiar though. Impressed they sat back and enjoyed. With each wave and hand movement, the choir changed their cadence and volume. Even the slightest gesture redirected their performance. It seemed as if the choir was able to fill the entire hall with their voices. Though none of them had performed a sonorous.

As the last notes of the soprano soloist faded into silence, the teacher on stage closed his fingers and slashed his arms. No one moved; no one spoke. The entire choir's attention was still firmly fixed on their instructor. For a tense moment everyone was still. Then the man on stage nodded once.

"Well done. That wasn't entirely terrible." His voice carried easily through the theater as well. It seemed the permission the choir needed to once more break into excitable, young individuals, as their postures eased and smiles broke out among them. Clapping, Professor Zabini rose. To the duelling team's surprise, James was right next to him. His enthusiastic applause in stark contrast to his still neutral facial expression. The man on the stage turned around and shaded his eyes from the bright stage lights.

"Excuse me, but we aren't open to the public." He chastised in his cultured, British accented voice. As the duelling team saw, he even had a pocket watch chain across his vest. He seemed a man out of his time somehow. As if he would be more at home in the late eighteen hundreds.

"Not even to an old friend?" Professor Zabini called. The teacher's demeanour changed entirely from slightly stand-offish to almost giddy in the blink of an eye.

"Blaise? Blaise Zabini, is that you?" With a swish of his wand, the teacher raised the lights in the theater and Professor Zabini spread his arms.

"In the flesh." Grinning both men approached each other and came together in a hug.

"I thought you said five pm. You're early." The teacher complained. Apparently this man knew their professor from before.

"Sorry about that, Theo. Draco had a prior engagement and before I let valuable teaching time go to waste, I thought why not drop by sooner." The now named Theo shook his head.

"You could at least have owled me. Or called. Didn't Draco give you my number?"

"He sure did, but I am still figuring that cell phone out. Every time I turn it on, I can't seem to do anything but play that game Jane put on it." He complained. Theo waved his hand dismissively.

"Excuses, excuses. And who is this Jane? Your flavour of the month?" Theo crossed his arms, while Blaise blushed, ducked his head and moved closer to his old friend.

"No, she's not and could you keep it down a little? Some of those kids are her students." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. Theo chuckled and seemed even more amused.

"Be still my heart. A woman who has managed to ensnare unrepentant bachelor Blaise Zabini? This I must see. You have to bring her to my place." He insisted. Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Sure. And while I get drinks, you will regale her with tales of my philandering ways?" He raised a questioning eyebrow. Theo gave him an innocent look and spread his hands.

"What else are friends for?" Both of them laughed. By now their students had closed the gap in their interest to overhear. Turning to the choir, Blaise bowed with a flourish.

"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor..." Theo snorted in laughter next to him, quickly covering his mouth, biting his lip and shaking his head. Blaise threw him a dark glance. "As I was saying. I am Professor Blaise Zabini. Physical training coach for the Salem University duelling team you see clustered behind me, trying to inconspicously listen in on your teacher's and my conversation." Throwing his team a glance, he saw most of them looking apologetic, while some shrugged their shoulders and gave him impudent smiles. Shaking his head, he made a note of those few. One, those were in for some extra training and two, these were the ones he needed to introduce to some finer arts of revenge, if their plans to get justice for James was to succeed. His team waved and mumbled hello's to the other students. With a wide grin and a flamboyant bow, which would not have been out of place at the sun king's court, Theo turned to the duelling team.

"Theodore Balthazar Nott, at your service. Musical genius and entertainer extraordinaire." Theo's students chuckled behind him at their teachers antics. None of what he'd said though was a lie, as they had discovered. While at the conservatory he was a demanding teacher, who didn't let them get away with anything and constantly pushed them for better perfomances. Then he'd invited them to his bar and they'd seen an entirely different side to their teacher. Figuratively and literally. There he was an entertainer, just like he'd said. Singing, playing the piano or one of the myriad other instruments available there. The best part had been, when he'd performed 'I got you, Babe' with his partner, who'd been wearing a nice dress and a terrible wig.

Blaise looked to his students, who were a bit overwhelmed at his friend's mannerisms. He could understand. Theo's transformation after the war had been the most extreme among his peers. While in school, Theo had preferred to stay in the background, not drawing attention to himself. After Blaise met Theo's father once at a garden party held by the Malfoy's, he knew exactly why. If there was any word to describe the Nott patriarch, it was vile. He didn't even want to contemplate what his friend had to endure during the Dark Lord's reign. It had been no secret among the Slytherins whose parents were part of the Death Eaters and Theo's father was right there in the front. Kissing snake-face's feet along with the rest of the delusional idiots. And apparently he'd expected his son to follow in his footsteps. Anybody who knew Theo though, knew how unlikely that was. Nonetheless Theo had played his part in the charade. So well, in fact, that Blaise had to catch Pansy after she'd fainted, when Theo had shown his true colours a couple of years after the war and they'd met in a muggle club in London. Within moments of entering the club, Theo had hooked up with a muggle and was heavily making out, not caring that his friends saw. What had shocked Pansy wasn't so much the snogging of a muggle, but much more that that muggle had been a man. Not that homosexuality wasn't known among wizards and witches, but in their circles it was heavily frowned upon and **never** to be done in public. If the status quo had remained, Theo would have had to marry some unlucky witch to carry on the Nott line and produce an heir, while suppressing his true desires his entire life, or only being able to follow them in secrecy. Something that would have been dangerous, as his secret could be discovered any time and give his enemies ammunition for blackmail. Also, everyone had assumed that Theo would take over his father's rather shady import-export business dealing in rare artifacts which more often than not had curses on them. Instead, he'd handed the warehouse, books and the keys to Nott Keep; yes, his ancestral home was an old, drafty castle; to the ministry. Inviting them to tear the whole place apart. Which the aurors, curse breakers as well as the unspeakables had done with great fervour and enthusiasm. Taking his inheritance and the proceeds from selling off just about everything his father had held so dear, Theo had then moved to muggle London and joined the rest of his fellow Slytherins on their extended binge. Dropping out of that much earlier than the rest, not due to lack of funds, he'd made the decision to travel and see what the world was truly like. Blaise had received letters and post cards from around the world from his friend and he'd been happy to see that Theo seemed finally at ease with himself and his surroundings. Draco had told him a bit about meeting Theo again here and what kind of life Theo now led. He was a respected authority in the world of magical music, having dabbled in it ever since his teenage years and investing his own money in up-and-coming bands and labels. His knowledge of music and excellent ear for talent had him rise to the top within a few years. He'd produced hits and stars and successfully kept his name out of the press all the time. Only insiders knew who he was and as he now was semi-retired from his publishing days to be a teacher, if he took an interest in you, the entire industry sat up in attention. Which explained why Peabody was thrilled to have him and why his courses were not only constantly full, but also the most expensive to attend. But just like Draco, Theo had made it a condition of his hiring that he could offer scholarships to those he deemed worthy. Those were very rare, but each of the students he'd personally picked were international stars now.

"Now that all are suitingly impressed with our importance, on to the lesson we have to teach the louts behind me." Blaise pointed out. Frowning a little, Theo crossed his arms.

"What lesson would that be?" He asked, raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow. When it came to grooming, Theo gave Draco a run for his money. Either of them could block their communal bathroom at Hogwarts for hours on end.

"Well discipline of course!" Blaise pointed out, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sighing and hanging his head a bit, Theo pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, fine. Have them sit in the front row." He sighed again for effect. Blaise grinned and herded his students into the front row as directed. Theo stood at the edge of the stage and stared at them. While they'd gotten to their seats and sitting down, the duelling team was talking and joking among themselves. As the silence from the instructors stretched and the intense feeling of being watched increased, they looked up and some of them had to swallow. Mr Nott's intense dark gaze was on them. It didn't waver in the slightest and he didn't even seem to blink. The silence stretched on for so long, that even his own students were getting uncomfortable. When he finally started speaking, all of them twitched in surprise. Well, all of them except Professor Zabini. Eliana threw Sabrina a pitying look. They all worked hard to get Mr Nott to exactly not be in such a mood.

"Your professor tells me you are a duelling team. Can any of you tell me then, who is the most important person on that team?" Mr Nott was now walking up and down the stage, his gaze never leaving the new arrivals. Eliana winced. She knew that this was a trick question. Mr Nott liked to ask this at the first rehearsal after summer break, when new members joined the orchestra. She tried to mime the correct answer to Sabrina, but her miming skills were apparently sub-par, when her friend raised her hand and confidently answered: "The duellists of course." Face-palming herself, Eliana shook her head.

"The duellists, of course." Mr Nott repeated slowly, stopping right in front of Sabrina. Her smile slowly dimmed under his continued, frosty scrutiny. At first she wanted to expand on her answer, but she quickly swallowed that impulse as she caught Eliana frantically shaking her head out of the corner of her eye. Man! If her friend had to deal with this dude on a daily basis, she could understand why she wanted to transfer to Salem Uni at times.

"Then I wish you good luck, missy, when your opponent uses a spell you don't know. Or when you are injured during your duel. Or when you are constantly on the defense and cannot see a way past your opponent's defenses. I hate to break it to you, darling, but if you approach duelling that way, you will soon be a one-woman show. Because I can guarantuee you that no one likes it when you claim team effort as a personal win. **Very** talented and experienced duellists can deal on their own, but you are neither." Her instant protest died on her lips at his continued stare, almost egging her on to contradtict him. Biting her lip, she pulled back. Smirking Mr Nott looked to her professor.

"Smarter than she looks." He commented, at which Professor Zabini only chuckled. What was wrong with him?! Shouldn't he be defending her? She threw a glance at Jeremy next to her, but apparently he wasn't going to be her knight in shining armour either. His gaze was fastened on Mr Nott, he seemed a little pale and was sitting very straight.

"As everyone but a complete imbecile will have realised by now, a team has no most valuable member. A team, like a choir or orchestra, should be a perfect combination of individuals into a cohesive whole. If you do not understand these words, look them up later. Each of you has a set of skills your professors saw in you and deemed were useful in a duelling setting. So when one of you is on the carpet, will the rest of you...take a nap? Read a book? Listen to music? No! You will be there, at the carpet, giving your team mate encouragement and support. You will note things about your opposition your duellist can't, simply because of your vantage point and perspective. As each instrument adds to the symphony, each of you will add to the duel and possible victory of your duellist. So what do you do to achieve this?" As he talked, Mr Nott had resumed walking up and down in front of them. After his smackdown on Sabrina though, none of the others was too enthusiastic about answering his question.

"Yes, young man?" Mr Nott pointed and with admiring and fearful glances they looked who among them was brave enough to take this one. James sat a little straighter.

"Work together." He rumbled. Mr Nott closed his eyes with a sigh. All of them cringed a bit, already feeling sorry for their team mate and friend.

"Merlin help me. Stand up properly and how about answering so all can hear? No mumbling. Loud and clear, please." He instructed. Sighing James got to his feet.

"Work together." He repeated loud and clear. Mr Nott stopped mid-step, his posture changing slightly. Slowly he turned and looked directly at James, who met his gaze dead on. Instantly his street cred increased ten-fold. Not only with his own peers, but with the choir as well. All of them knew the look Mr Nott was giving him now and none of them felt comfortable about holding that connection.

"Kindly expand on your explanation for your peers." Requested Mr Nott.

"We need to help each other out. Know each others strengths and weaknesses, so that we can warn each other or give tips of what would work." James explained. He felt very uncomfortable now. Not because he'd had to flesh out a pretty self-explanatory concept, but because with each word he'd spoken, Mr Nott had come closer, tilting his head a little. There was even a small smile on the man's face. What the hell, man! He knew that his professors were different, but what could this man possibly teach them according to Professor Malfoy? How to weird people out?

"Exactly." Mr Nott said in an absentminded fashion. He moved back to his position on stage, but kept glancing back at James from time to time. Sitting back down, James just wanted out of here. That guy was just too weird. Twirling on his heel, Mr Nott turned to his own students.

"Formation!" He called. Within seconds the students were back in their choir formation, backs straight, eyes forward, no talking. Turning back to the duelling team, Mr Nott pointed behind him.

"This is discipline. Almost any of the students behind me could be a soloist. With that comes ego. People telling you all your life you are a special snowflake and better than the rest. Newsflash! In a team that no longer applies! Ego has no place there. Ever listened to a choir where everyone does what they want? It sounds terrible. No one wants to listen to that and I can guarantuee you, if you do not work together, no one wants to see you duel. You'll be off the carpet quicker than you can say quidditch.  
"Discipline also means that you can dial back your ego enough, that taunts won't get to you. That is what I was doing to your friend a moment ago. Lo and behold, she didn't respond. She wanted to. Trust me. But lashing out without thought will hand your opponent victory. Discipline also means that you take instructions from someone you trust." He pointed behind him again. The choir was still in formation and at attention. "And if you do all this, then this will be very easy for you." He gestured at the choir without looking and all of them opened their mouths at once, singing out a single chord. Closing his hand, the chord cut off as if the sound was severed by a knife.

"Control, discipline, training and working as a team. Right there." With a bow he moved out of the way, so that the duelling team had an unobstructed view of the choir. None of them had moved or relaxed and all their eyes were still fixed on their teacher, despite him not looking at them. One of the boys' eyes in the middle drifted to Lorelei and when she turned to him, he winked.

"Mikhail! Eyes on me, please!" Mr Nott called out. Twitching and swallowing a bit, the young man turned his attention back to his instructor. Mr Nott was studying the duelling team again.

"As you can see, it is still work in progress. But already now, this choir will outperform almost any in the world. Your professors will have other methods than mine to make you into a team, but remember that if they should ask, I will be delighted to give you all classes in humility." He turned back to the choir, nodded and waved. "We will pick up in a moment. Mikhail, this is my last warning. I know you think you are god's gift to women, but if I catch you losing concentration again, you are off the choir." The young man paled and nodded.

"Yes, Mr Nott." He replied in broken English.

 **AN: Hello out there. :) Just a little heads-up that I might need a bit of time to get the next chapters right, as Hermione and Draco's dreaded therapist appointment is coming up. Hope you are still enjoying the story. Please advise if you have any comments about the style, characters etc as I always want to improve my writing. Have a nice one!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

For the tenth time Draco checked whether his jacket sat straight on his shoulders and if his shirt cuffs were at the right angle. Stretching his neck, he tried to breathe deep. Maybe this therapist thing wasn't a good idea. Yes, Granger was normally full of good ideas, but even she had to get it wrong sometimes, right? Patting down his waistcoat to make sure there were no wrinkles, he looked to the auditorium doors to check whether the seminar was finished already. The doors were still closed. He couldn't quite decide whether this was good or bad. On one hand it meant that he wouldn't have to go to the therapist's office yet, but on the other hand while he waited his thoughts and insecurities would run rampant inside his head. Hermione had told him not to worry and when he felt his wand in its holster on his arm, he calmed a little. He'd checked with the ministry and performing magic in front of the therapists was apparently allowed. In therapy emotions ran high, leading to outbursts of spontaneous magic, even in adults. While he wouldn't use his wand to incapacitate the muggle, he felt safer knowing that he had magical options of escape. Probably something Mrs Miller would comment on. He had no idea. The 'healers' that had interrogated him in Azkaban had never taken the time to actually talk to him. Apart from orders to go somewhere, sit or lie down and to damn it open his mind since they had permission from the ministry, they'd never truly communicated with Draco. He'd done his level best over the last years to simply forget about all those sessions. At times though he still woke up in a cold sweat and needed a moment to realise that he wasn't magically incapacitated and lying on a cold, metal slab. When he'd ordered new bedding for his bed at home, his mother had been surprised. In his youth he'd liked a harder mattress, but ever since he'd been released from Azkaban, he preferred it softer. Bedding and cushions included. In the end his bed in his childhood room would have given any princess a run for her money. But he'd slept like on a cloud, snuggled deep into the nest of soft blankets and cushions. His current bed wasn't quite that extravagantly soft and his blankets were not as thick as before, but he still liked oversized, fluffy pillows he could hug and snuggle into. His mother and aunt found this aspect of him cute and his mother would always tell him at breakfast how adorable he had looked when she'd come to wake him. Something she'd developed into a habit after his release from Azkaban and especially after his subsequent release from St. Mungo's after the attack in Diagon Alley. His aunt had even dared to take a picture of him looking up through his blanket on her phone. She loved showing it to him and he only hoped that she hadn't shared it with anyone else. He knew how close she was to the Weasleys and Potters. That was just what he needed. Taunts about his sleeping habits from his childhood enemies.

His ruminations on bedding however had taken his mind off the incipient therapy session and gotten him out of his head. As an added bonus, time seemed to have flown by and the doors to the auditorium were opening. As always, Hermione was surrounded by her adoring students, who were trying to get some last minute questions in. He didn't interfere or come closer. He waited until she made eye contact with him and nodded. When she saw him, she gave him a bright smile that for some reason had him instantly breathing easier. She would be there with him and she had an outstanding record when it came to protecting and rescuing people. If anything should happen, he was sure that Hermione not only would know a way out, but could execute any plan coming to her mind. He'd never been self-reliant before his prison sentence. Ever since he couldn't bear it if someone else was in control over him. With Hermione though he was prepared to make an exception. She was simply too good a person to take advantage of him. Not only that. She would do anything to help him too. Breathing deep and slightly relaxing, he smiled softly at her, when she looked over to him again. Hermione and the female students around her blushed, turning back to their discussion. Some of the students leaving greeted him on their way past. Politely he returned their greetings, but his attention remained focused on Hermione. She chose to wear her hair in a loose plait today, leaving a few tendrils to caress the sides of her face. Under her professor's robes he could just see the light brown silk blouse she wore, paired with a dark blue pencil skirt and high-heeled shoes in a matching tone to her skirt. He was still getting used to her new style. Not that he didn't appreciate it, since he most definitely did, but those pencil skirts would be his undoing. Paired with the high heels she now apparently preferred to wear, they magnetically pulled his eyes to her backside. His mother would be appalled at his fascinated staring. It was hardly appropriate or respectful behaviour.

Hermione did her best not to stare and listen to her students' questions. It was hard though. Draco stood down the hall, looking as if he'd just stepped out of an issue of GQ. She was no fashion connoseur, but the midnight blue suit complete with vest and matte black tie worked extremely well for him. She would have thought that the dark colour would make him seem pale and sickly, but it didn't. She guessed it had to do with him having actually managed to somehow get a bit of a tan. In school he'd preferred the distinguished pallor route. It had made him look like an anemic idiot with bleached hair and a pinched face. Who would have thought that this transformation would happen? His face had filled out and the too sharp angles of his teenage face were now the strong features of a man. And what a man! As the last of her students left, she nibbled her lip as an old song came unbidden to her mind. She knew it would be on her mind the entire day, unless she sung or at least hummed it. So humming as low as possible 'Whatta man' by Salt'N' Pepa, she made her way over to Draco. Unconsciously she put a bit of a sway in her step to match the song in her head. Idly she wondered how long it had been since she'd been dancing. Years, surely. Before her children were born, Ginny had dragged her off to clubs and bars along with Luna and a handful of women Hermione no longer acknowledged, since they had snubbed her after her and Ronald's break-up. Well except for Hannah. But they had been more acquaintances than friends. Nonetheless Hannah was one of the few people who made an effort to stay in touch. That was mainly though because of her longtime boyfriend, Neville. All of them were waiting for them to finally tie the knot. Whenever the topic came up, they simply smiled and changed the topic. It drove Ginny mad. Apparently she'd bought the perfect wedding gift for them ages ago.

Settling her eyes once more on Draco, she fought down the infatuated schoolgirl sigh wanting to get out. Merlin, she wasn't fifteen anymore. Clearing her throat she gave him a smile.

"Hello Draco. I'll just drop off my robes at the Lounge and then we can go."

Inclining his head with a tilted smile, he offered her his arm. Surprised she looked up at him and caught the jesting twinkle in his eye.

"Wherever the lady leads, I shall follow." He managed to say in a neutral voice, while his eyes danced with mirth. Laughing she softly slapped his offered arm and started walking. He fell in stride next to her. She was relieved he was in such a good mood. She'd feared he'd be an emotional mess about the appointment today. Not that she would fault him for it, after what he'd told her about his forced sessions in Azkaban.

"Charmer. Did Blaise take the kids to see that other instructor you wanted them to see?" She asked in an attempt at small talk. Work was always a safe route, since, as it turned out, both were passionate about it and could fill hours with conversation about it.

"Yes, he did. They are going to see Theodore Nott. Do you remember him from Hogwarts?" He asked. Frowning she tried to remember and mentally sorted through the faces and names she had stored away in her head. A vague image of a dark haired, quiet boy came to mind.

"I think so. Dark brown hair and interested in arithmancy, right? You Slytherins weren't exactly eager to spend time with me." Her tone was slightly apologetic. He waved her attempt to apologise off.

"No need to feel bad that you don't remember him. Theo did his best to be invisible while at Hogwarts. If you'd known his father, you'd know where he got all that training. Disgusting man. Rotted in a cell three doors down from mine. Absolute nutter, if you ask me. Theo is an instructor at Peabody's Conservatory for Magical Music. And he's one of the very best. Do you remember 'Enchanted Eyes'?" Ever the gentleman he held the door open for her, while keeping an expectant eye on her face, waiting for her answer. She appreciated it, since she'd discovered that some men used the door opening for her as an excuse to look at her arse.

"Of course. Such a sad, romantic song. I loved it. Wasn't it number one in the charts for four months?" She didn't exactly know where he was going with this.

"Five, but not that Theo bragged. He wrote and produced the song." It took him a moment after his revelation to note that she had stopped and was no longer next to him. Turning, he saw her gape at him.

"No! You're kidding me!" She quickly closed the gap and they continued their way over the campus. "That song was so powerful! I had no idea Theodore liked music. Now that I think about it though, the lyrics make even more sense to me, now that I know the providence." She threw him a careful glance and sure enough, his features had tensed a bit.

"Yeah, well, our generation got disenchanted pretty harhsly. Theo needed an outlet. He had it harder than most. His father was a true believer. Right there with my aunt." He looked down when he felt her hand softly squeezing his arm in support. Smiling sadly he looked to her, laid his own hand above hers and linked their arms. "Are we starting the session early?" He asked half in jest. It had the desired effect. Laughing she leaned slightly into him.

"No. I'd make a rotten therapist. Apprently I can be pushy." She said with a mischievous grin. Adopting a contemplative expression, he turned his gaze to the sky.

"Hm...No. No, I won't comment. I hear you can be argumentative as well." When she laughed at his mediocre joke, he felt ten feet tall.

xXx

Peter knew that Hermione had said tomorrow, but he hadn't gotten where he was by being a push-over. Besides, didn't women like spontaneity? At least that was what he told himself, when he made his way over to the Exploding Hall. Not because he'd seen Malfoy going over there right as Hermione's class was about to let out. No, of course not. Although...scoping out what the other man was up to wouldn't hurt. He'd never had any competition in the ladies department he had to take seriously. That sure didn't apply to the British money bag. Up until the start of this semester he was the one the girls on campus were whispering about and throwing flirtatious looks and winks, while blushing heavily. He'd been king of the hill and liked his position. Getting threatened wasn't sitting well with him at all.

With that in mind, he followed Malfoy into Exploding Hall, making sure to stay back a few feet so as not to be conspicuous. He also wasn't eager to talk to Malfoy, since he had no ready explanation for his presence here. Telling the other man he was here to ask Hermione out again rubbed him and his ego the wrong way. Just as expected Malfoy came to a stop in front of Hermione's class room. No matter. He would simply wait here at the corner. Hermione had to come his way on her way out. A chance meeting in the corridor. Nothing more innocent than that, right. As he thought about it, it was perfect. One of his new chasers was taking potions classes, so that would explain his presence. Smiling smugly, he leaned to the wall and peeked around the corner. He wanted to time his appaerance right.

As the doors opened, he saw the adoring fans, as he'd dubbed her students, mill around her. Damn! She looked fine today. Well, she always did, but whoo-whee! That skirt and those heels made her legs look mighty fine. He'd bet her ass looked spectacular as well, if the stupid professors' robes wouldn't be in the way for him to judge. He appreciated her sense of style. What he didn't appreciate was the shy, girlish glances she was throwing Malfoy's way. What the hell?! When he'd heard them talking yesterday they'd been all business, discussing something boring about lending books and some project Jane was doing. He'd seen his ex in the Lounge hovering over old leather bound books, muttering to herself. Honestly? What was interesting about some old books? With narrowed eyes he took in their interaction and had to swallow when he saw her sashay over to Malfoy. There was no other way to describe the sway of her hips that sang a siren's song to all males in the vicinity. He noted some of the boys still walking the corridor throwing Hermione longing glances. He huffed. Dream on, boys. That woman was his. Snickering a little, he debated whether to regale Hermione with tales of her resident fan club. He'd stumbled across it quite by accident. He'd taken his notes to his office at the quidditch pitch and walked by the men's locker room. The door had been ajar and the club in session. While some of the boys were still cross with her about what had happened at the beginning of term, all of his male team members were in agreement that she was hot. And from what he'd heard, she had become voted the hottest teacher on campus, dethroning Mathilda Henley, who taught advanced charms in healing. She'd transferred from the magical branch of UCLA. Apparently beauty charms were just the rage there and the old dean had wanted in on the action. It was still up in the air whether Mathilda would remain, since her courses weren't overly full and McPherson didn't seem to think Mathilda's approach to the topic correct or ethical. Peter couldn't understand why. So what if a witch wanted to put a few charms on her face or body. As long as she felt comfortable about it he didn't care.

Malfoy's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he peeked again around the corner. Damn! Apparently the git had decided to escort her. He hadn't expected that. As he was busy rethinking his plan, some of what Malfoy blathered on about filtered through to him.

"...in a cell three doors from mine. Absolute nutter, if you ask me..."

Peter did a double take and smoothly took a step back from the corner so as not to be discovered. What?! Did he hear right? A cell? But that would mean Malfoy had been in prison! Frowning he stepped to the corner and looked after them. Could it be that Malfoy was a criminal? And did Hermione know? She must, since Malfoy felt comfortable dropping this tidbit of information during a casual conversation. Worried he turned back around his corner and leaned to the wall. Did the dean know? He knew that McPherson had worked his ass off to get Salem Uni back into the good graces of the public and the board of directors. The man deserved all the kudos in the world for that after the shoddy job the last dean had done. He didn't know much about HR, but even he understood how hard it was for respected professors to take a chance on a position at a university with a tarnished reputation. Mulling this over, he made his way outside and looked for Hermione. Setting his jaw he decided he needed to do a bit of detecting, when he saw how Hermione linked her arm with Malfoy's and leaned into him. The guy had to go and if he could expose him as a fraud, all the better. He'd probably told Hermione and the dean some sob story about unlawful imprisonment or some such shit to curry favour. Well, he wouldn't be fooled.

xXx

With a sure hand Draco drove his Bentley Mulsanne through Salem's traffic. When they stopped at a red light, he could no longer ignore the glances Hermione was throwing him. As the car idled, he let his hand rest on the knurled gear lever, just so he had something to do with that hand. As the car was an automatic, he didn't need to shift gears and currently he was regretting it. He should have taken the Maybach Exelero, but that had seemed overkill for the small stretch of road. He'd taken that particular beast on the road after particularly stressful days. While it wasn't a racing broom, the speed and ferocity of the car had spoken to him. Even his father had approved, after he had learned that it was one of the most expensive and exclusive in the world. Or the Mercesdes AMG S-65? But then that was a convertible and he'd been concerned about her hair-do. Springing a convertible on a lady was never done, according to his mother. Next time he would have to ask her what kind of car she would prefer.

"Is something wrong?" He looked around, but couldn't see anything amiss inside the car. Breathing deep, she shook her head and gave him a slanted smile.

"No, it's just...I sometimes forget that you are rich. And I never knew that you knew how to drive a car." She shrugged. Chuckling he was glad the light turned to green and he accelerated.

"Yes, well. Wizarding life in the US is very different. While there were a few wizards and witches among the first settlers, there weren't enough of them to establish wizarding sectors from the get-go. As such, the intermingling is much more profound. As the magical folk of that time needed to work closely with the muggles to survive, many every day muggle things became second nature to them as well. Like cars, public transportation, etc. It was quite a culture shock for me. I had a very understanding instructor when I trained for my licence." He winked as he gave her a look. Grinning she nodded.

"I bet. Ginny is still terrified when I drive her. Little hypocrite. A stick of wood flying through the air is apparently fine, but driving in a car? Don't get me started." She let her hands run with appreciation over the smooth leather seat and interior. She had been a bit bug-eyed, when he'd driven up to the curb outside of Salem University's gates with the Bentley. She'd only seen such cars in commercials and James Bond movies.

"I was sceptical at first, but I have found I much prefer cars to broom sticks. Much easier on my derrière, excuse my French." He slowed as his satnav indicated that they'd arrived at the correct building. The office building rose straight into the Salem sky. A sign indicated a parking garage around the corner, which he followed.

"No excuses needed. I was so happy to discover in school that flying wasn't mandatory after first year." She sighed in mock relief. He gave her a smile and lowered his window to get his parking ticket. Within minutes Draco had found a free parking space and smoothly backed into it. Turning the motor off, he turned to her.

"So? Good driver?" He asked only half-jokingly. Smiling she nodded and unclasped her seat belt.

"Smooth as silk. A far cry from Harry. I am constantly gripping the handle above the window and shadow pushing pedals I don't have access to. That man is an accident waiting to happen. I am just happy he only drives sporadically. Otherwise I would be very concerned for the other motorists in London." They shared a laugh and got out of the car. Softly closing the door, she couldn't help herself and caressed the car. Who knew when she would ever drive in one again. He caught her movement and raised an eyebrow.

"You want a moment alone with my car?" He asked cheekily and locked the Bentley by remote. Snorting she rolled her eyes at him.

"Very funny, Mr Malfoy." Shaking her head she turned to the closest exit. He fell in next to her. They would have to register at the front desk and then take the elevator to the third floor. As all offices in the building were occupied by medical companies or practices, the need for security was clear. There were always desperate, lost souls who would attempt to steal drugs due to an addiction.

Hermione noticed that Draco kept tugging on his suit jacket, as if to make sure it sat correctly. He'd put it on after getting out of the car. On the back of the driver's seat there had been an elegant silver coat rack and from what she could gather the jacket sat absolutely perfect on those broad, muscular shoulders and the shirt on his chest, which she at times found she wanted to climb like Mount Everest...ahm...he looked good. Yes.

"Everything okay?" She asked in a bit of a croak. He didn't notice due to his nerves rushing to the fore. His palms were getting sweaty and he could feel his muscles tremoring in his back.

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "Is the suit alright? One of my old associates at Malfoy Enterprises suggested the tailor. I've never had a muggle suit before." His explanation was a whisper as there were muggles all around. She patted his arm and led the way to the counter.

"You look dashing, as if you didn't know." She winked and smirked, hoping to get him out of his funk by ribbing him a bit. She could see he was getting anxious. Nodding and breathing deep, he gave her a small smile. Turning to the receptionist slash security guard behind the counter, she introduced herself.

"Hello Ray. I am here with my friend Draco Malfoy for my appointment."

The dapper, elder man nodded, flipping through documents on a clipboard behind the counter. An amicable smile was on his face, as he looked up.

"Sure thing Ms Granger. You know the way." He indicated the turnstiles next to him and as she and Draco approached them, he pushed a button, letting them through. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, as Draco advanced on the turnstile with trepidation. The lift took them to the third floor in no time and all too soon for Draco, they stood in front of Dr Miller's office door. She made no move to open the door, but looked up at him. He had the nauseating feeling of being very close to hyperventilating. Swallowing he lowered his gaze. He turned to her, when he felt her hand slide into his. It had to be uncomfortable, since now he definitely had sweaty hands. She didn't let go though.

"It's okay. We can do this another time. When you are ready." She softly assured him and gave a light squeeze to his hand to emphasize her acceptance. Letting his breath out in a whoosh he straightened his shoulders and back. Steeling his resolve, he squeezed her hand back, let go and opened the door.

"Ladies first." He invited, his voice only wavering a little. Inclining her head, she again took the lead. Wetting his suddenly dry lips, he followed her inside. After he closed the door, he'd planned on following her closely. Safety in numbers and all that, but the moment he took a good look around, he came to a stop. This was not what he expected. It didn't look like a doctor's office. He didn't have much experience with those, as he'd had a personal physician all his life, who came to him and not the other way around. His only experience stemmed from visits to the Hogwarts infirmary and St Mungo's. This looked like someone's living room. A TV was mounted on a wall across from a comfy sofa. On the low table magazines lay spread around in a haphazard fashion. The floor was carpeted and not tiled. The only thing breaking the illusion was the counter in the corner behind which a portly woman in her fifties sat, chatting amicably with Hermione. The counter was a window of sorts into a whole other room filled with filing cabinets and other doors. Tugging on his vest for the hundredth time, he closed the distance to Hermione.

"...and Mark gets cheekier every day! I swear that boy will run me ragged!" The woman, identified by her name tag as Martha, complained to Hermione, who was laughing. Interested he leaned closer. Martha had her phone out and was showing pictures of her grandson to Hermione.

"So he's running now already?" She asked the receptionist. Martha nodded eagerly, the pride of a content grandmother radiating from her. He felt himself smile. Some of the tension eased out of him. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. As he moved closer, both women turned to him. Hermione with an encouraging smile and Martha with widening eyes.

"Dear Lord." The receptionist whispered, fanning herself. "He sure is a tall drink of water, isn't he?" She winked at Hermione, who blushed.

"Martha Simmons, this is my friend Draco Malfoy. I believe Adele briefed you about him?" She explained hurriedly, trying to contain the tingling feeling in her stomach. Martha turned her attention and a welcoming smile to Draco.

"Indeed she did. Welcome Mr Malfoy. I understand that you are going to be a guest at Hermione's session today. As such there are some formalities we need to take care of." She stood and handed Draco a prepared clipboard. "This is a non-disclosure agreement we had our lawyers prepare for this occasion. It details that everything discussed in the session is covered under doctor-client privilige. So Dr Miller cannot be compelled to give a statement unless ordered by court order to do so. As you are not a client of Dr Miller, this agreement mainly applies to you not divulging anything from your session to others. If you should do so, we will be sueing you for breach of privacy." She explained in a soft voice, pointing to the appropriate parts of the document he now held. Nodding along with her explanation, he slogged his way through the legalese.

"Thank you, Mrs Simmons. Unfortunately I have seen documents like these before. My company was involved in a government project and almost all my staff had to sign similar documents." Looking up from his reading, he gave her a smile and reached into his jacket to retrieve his fountain pen. When he was occupied again with the NDA, Martha turned with raised eyebrows to Hermione. Wiggling the same eyebrows, the older woman gave her a wink. Hermione couldn't help herself and had to giggle. Draco looked up at the women, but they only looked back with affected innocence. Frowning he turned back to the clipboard and signed his full name on the indicated line with his usual flourish and initialled about a hundred times. This was a part of his old job he didn't miss. When he'd expanded Malfoy Enterprises it had at times gotten so bad he'd had cramps in his hand just from signing his name.

"There you go." He handed the clipboard back to Martha with a smile. Grinning she took it, checked the signature and nodded.

"Very good. Please take a seat. Dr Miller is still in a session. Can I offer you anything? Tea, coffee, water?"

"Tea would be lovely, Martha. Thank you." Hermione responded for them and the receptionist nodded and moved towards the back of her working area. Following Hermione, Draco sat on the sofa next to her. She took him in and was relieved to see that some of that painful tension had eased from his shoulders.

"You okay so far?" She asked softly. Nodding he adjusted the lapels of his jacket.

"Yes. It helps that this does not look like a doctors office at all." He sighed, letting go of a bit more tension. Chuckling she nodded. Martha set down their tea on the low table. As she'd entered, Draco had gotten up, as he was won't to do. Confused Martha took him in.

"Yes?" She asked, expecting a request or maybe the explanation for the way to the toilets. What she didn't expect was his answer.

"Nothing. A gentleman simply rises to greet a lady when she enters a room." He explained. Martha blushed, raised an eyebrow at Hermione and mouthed 'hot'. Draco smiled and turned to Hermione as well. She on the other hand was biting her lip to keep from laughing and was blushing a bit as well. Raising an eyebrow himself, Draco sat back down and handed Hermione her tea.

"Apparently we are a rare breed." He quipped in his most snobbish accent, picked up his own cup complete with pinky outstretched and took a dainty sip. Not able to help herself, Hermione burst into laughter and held on to the saucer of her cup with both hands, so as not to spill her tea. Grinning he took her in. He loved making her laugh. The way her eyes lit up was just magical and that it was him doing it was even more miraculous. Getting herself under control, she sat up very straight and imitated his pose, picking up her cup and stretching her little finger as well.

"Indeed, sir. To the utter detriment of society at large, you most certainly are." Her haughty tone could have given his mother's a run for her money.

Their ensuing small talk about different team members was cut short, when the red light next to the solid cherry wood door next to them turned off. She set down her cup and turned to him. Sensing the sudden change in mood, he assumed that the turned off red light meant they were next. Tension rushed back into his body, as if it had been waiting for him to let his guard down.

"All right, Draco. Dr Miller is coming to get us in a moment. Remember what we discussed. At any moment you can leave. If you feel uncomfortable, please say so. If you can't or won't continue that is perfectly okay, no explanations needed." She assured, looking deeply into his eyes and taking his hands. She could already see how tense he once again had become. He'd also paled a bit, but his face only showed determination. The door opened and a tall, robust black woman with her silver shot black hair in dreads and clothed in a red shirt top buttons undone and wide white slacks greeted them.

"Hello Hermione, Mr Malfoy. Please, come in." Her soft contra-alto a stark contrast to the snarling voices of the 'healers' from Azkaban swirling in Draco's head. He tried breathing deep, but it was as if his throat had closed up. Hermione squeezed his hand, pulling him back to the here and now. She stood next to him, concern etched on her face. Swallowing once again, he stood as well. She needed him to do this. This would help her recovery and it was the least he could do for her. Fighting back his inner demons he squeezed back and opened his hand. To his surprise she didn't let go and on some level he was glad. He had a feeling that he may need this support.

All the while he fought with himself and his irrational reaction to her, Dr Miller didn't move or speak. She didn't know Mr Malfoy except for what Hermione had told her about him during their sessions, but she didn't need to know him to see the onsets of panic. She wondered why. However she would have to curb her curiousity. Today's session was not about him, but about Hermione. Reading Hermione Granger's file had been both highly interesting and sad. She'd heard many terrible things in her professional life, as she had specialised in the field of PTSD and was treating soldiers, policemen and women, as well as victims of crimes. What Janet Fielding's notes revealed though had been hard to process. It was amazing that Hermione was as well-adjusted and a testament to her colleague's excellent work. Moving to the side, she allowed her patient and guest to precede her. Nodding to Martha, Adele closed the door behind her and flipped the switch for the lamp outside, indicating a session in progress. Moving to her highbacked chair, she took a seat and opened her notebook on her crossed legs.

"Please take a seat." She offered, indicating with her hand loosely the chairs and couch across from her. Some of her patients liked to lie down, while others preferred to sit. As tastes differed, she had a variety of seats available. Some were squishy and comfy, while others offered a harder surface. Hermione chose the couch and sat down, while Mr Malfoy remained standing and took in her office. She let him look around. It had been a bit of a shock for her when two serious, official looking men in suits came to her office. At first she had feared that one of her patients had cracked and done something. What had come next though she could never have predicted. In the privacy of her office, she'd been let in on the secret that magic was real. At times she still struggled with the concept. They'd proven it to her by performing spells in front of her and they'd done all that for the woman currently seated on her couch. The gravity of the entire situation hadn't escaped Adele. And when she had received Hermione's file; hand-delivered by another earnest suit-wearing man; Adele had understood why such lengths were gone to. Not only had Hermione Granger been forced into being a child soldier, but she had won a war. The additional information she had requested for context had brought it home that participation in said war had never been a choice for Hermione. Either she fought back, or the other side would have killed her simply because of the circumstances of her birth. Mr Malfoy's name had not only come up in Hermione's file, but also the extra information she'd requested. And not in a good way, which was why she was so surprised not only by his presence, but also by the apparent camraderie between them. Stiffly he sat on the couch as well. Not leaning back into it like Hermione, but right on the edge, as if he was in the middle of rising. She surmised that he hadn't been to see a therapist ever. Concentrating on Hermione for now to let him acclimatise, Adele gave her patient a smile.

"You look good, Hermione. How have things been going?" She asked. Throwing a look at Mr Malfoy, Hermione nonetheless followed Adele's lead and started the session like they did most times.

"Very good. I've settled in well and the work at the university is very fulfilling. Two of my students are making great progress and I have put feelers out to different potions companies. I would love for them to do great and why not help along a bit?" Hermione winked. Adele smiled and nodded. She had done something along those lines for her more promising students as well.

"It can never hurt. So now that you are settled, have you given more thought to getting a new pet?" Mr Malfoy looked to Hermione with a raised eyebrow.

"Your kneazle died?" He asked softly. Picking at her skirt, Hermione nodded.

"Yes. A few years ago. Crooks was getting old, but...you know." She shrugged, still not looking up. Adele noted how he started to relax a bit. Good. He leaned closer to Hermione and kindly touched her hand, stilling her picking at non-existant threads.

"I am sorry to hear that. Losing your familiar is hard. Archimedes, my eagle owl, didn't...let's just say that one of the interlopers in my home didn't like a message they received." Interested Adele noted how Hermione sat up straighter and cradled his hand in hers now.

"Oh, Draco. That's terrible." He waved it off.

"I assume a familiar is more important than a simple pet?" Adele inquired. Hermione looked up.

"Yes. At first I thought it was just like having a pet. Mine looked like a cat, but he sure didn't always act like one." Her fond smile had a tint of melancholy to it. Crooks had carried her through some of her darker hours and she would be eternally grateful to him for that. As Adele still looked confused, Draco decided it was time to face the music and address the doctor himself.

"Familiars are in tune with their owners. They will assist in daily life and come to one's aid when in need. Even sacrificing themselves if needed. They are much more intelligent than the animal they resemble and a strong bond forms. Usually a familiar is a companion for life. Their life spans much longer than the animal they resemble. Which is why losing one and contemplating getting another is hard." He explained. Adele nodded, noting it down.

"Thank you for explaining, Mr Malfoy. So in essence, getting a new familiar is quite a weighty decision to make, as it would mean a life long commitment." She summarised. Both Hermione and Mr Malfoy nodded.

"Yes. Which is why it's so hard. At times I go by a menagerie and look at the animals on display, but none of them speak to me." Hermione sighed. Adele's eyes widened a bit.

"They actually talk?" She asked with a small smile. Hermione answered that smile with one of her own.

"No. It's just a figure of speech." She explained, but Mr Malfoy shook his head.

"Not really, Hermione." Both women turned to him. "They won't talk as such, but your magic and theirs need to mesh. In essence they are 'talking' to you." He said with a smile. Considering it she guessed it made sense.

"I'd never considered it before. Have you found another familiar?" She asked. He shook his head.

"No. I've been hesitant to get one. Before I came to the US my life was up in the air. When I came, I was too busy with my company. I guess I could go looking for one now." He mused.

"Maybe something you could do together?" Adele asked, looking expectantly at Hermione. Shrugging non-committally Hermione looked to Draco and then back at Adele.

"Maybe. I mean, if you would like to go, Draco?" Her voice was hesitant. Squeezing her hand, he gave a small smile.

"Sure. It sounds like fun."

Adele noted the closeness they had. From the notes of former sessions she knew that this was a recent development. And she could understand Hermione's ambivalence in all this. Developing positive feelings for a former school bully, who had been intricately involved with a cause calling for all witches like Hermione to be killed had to be confusing.

"Are you socialising outside of work then? I know from my discussions with Hermione that you are colleagues at the university, Mr Malfoy." As she addressed him, he sat up straighter. Due to his pale skin it was easy to see his slight blush.

"Yes. A bit. Nothing untoward, I assure you!" He rambled. She thanked her years of training for the mask she could pull over her face at will, because right now she wanted to laugh. Here sat a man in his prime, acting as if she'd questioned his intentions towards her only daughter. Hermione chuckled and gave him a smile.

"It's fine, Draco. Yes, Adele. Though most of the time we inevitably circle back to work. Although we've found that we have some interests in common." Nodding Adele waited for Hermione to go on. "We both enjoy books. I mean, your collection is wonderful, Draco. I know it sounds cheesy, but if you want, you can come by and have a look at mine." Adele and Hermione laughed at that, while Draco looked confused.

"Why is that funny?" He asked. Hermione patted his hand still held in hers.

"It's a very dated muggle joke. When a man invites a woman over to view his stamp collection, he normally means showing her something else." She threw a telling glance at him. Slowly it dawned on him and he had to chuckle.

"Stamps? Really? And that worked?" He asked disbelieving.

"Generally not, I would think." Hermione threw the older woman a look and Adele shook her head.

"Not in my time. That is good though. So you have found a way past your former disagreements?" Adele's tone had been light, but the mood inside the room took a dive.

"Disagreements is too innocent a word, Dr Miller." Draco managed to get out. All the tension was back in him. It was unfortunate, but he had time to acclimatise and sooner or later the issue had to be addressed of why Hermione wanted him here. Namely the change in their relationship from enemies to allies, maybe even friends or possibly more, judging from their continued hand-holding.

"Which word would you use?" She asked. She saw his jaw working hard.

"Stupidity on my part. Hermione was only defending herself whenever we clashed. Well, apart from that punch she threw when we were thirteen." He qualified. Hermione gasped and turned to him.

"You were being perfectly horrid that day! Waiting for an innocent animal to be executed just because you'd been embarassed."

"That was no innocent animal! It attacked me!"

"Yes, because you didn't listen to Hagrid and didn't pay it the respect it deserved. Buckbeak is a perfectly well behaved hippogriff when you greet him properly." Adele noted how they slowly moved apart as their discussion grew more heated. Before the situation could deteriorate, she decided to intervene.

"So in order to interact with this hippogriff, you had to pay respect. How so?" Adele interjected. Hermione looked to Draco, who had now crossed his arms and was looking remarkably like his old self.

"You bow and wait for the hippogriff to take the first step. If he accepts, you can pet it. If not, you have to back off, head bowed." She explained. Adele nodded. Taking in Draco, she decided to make a few assumptions.

"I can see your point, but I can also see why Mr Malfoy was so hurt back then." Interested both sat up. Adele turned to Draco. "Mr Malfoy, am I right in the assumption that your family is affluent and has a long and proud history?"

Cautious Draco nodded, narrowing his eyes at her. In them flashed something that had her breath catch for a moment. She'd seen it in some of the special forces soldiers the various armed forces sent her at times. It was the hint of an animal just waiting for an attack. She had to approach this carefully.

"Yes. How did you know?" Draco asked in a soft, conversational tone. It didn't negate the danger Adele sensed. Quite the contrary. She'd found that the ones truly capable of violence when cornered or put under undue pressure resorted to such a tone. Their minds seemed to close down, their emotions suddenly gone. Only instinct remained. More often than not they were deeply troubled when they recalled how they'd acted.

"Judging by your tailored suit and bearing I can tell that you are well off. You mentioned a company, belonging to you. I've spoken with Hermione about her book collection and for her to admire yours, it must not only be extensive, but valuable as well. Collecting such tomes is not a hobby for the poor. Then there is also the ring you are wearing on your right hand ring finger. It is not a wedding ring and the crest indicates that your family is old enough to have one. Am I correct so far?" She was relieved to note that the glint had gone and he seemed even a little surprised.

"Yes. Impressive." He commented.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy, but being observant is at the core of my profession. I doubt that even with your abilities you would be able to read minds." She had meant the last in jest, but apparently she'd hit a nerve. Draco stiffened completely, his eyes glassing over, his skin taking on a deathly pallor and sweat breaking out on his brow. Around her items started to tremble and if Hermione hadn't had such a reaction once before, she would be freaking out. It was a magical expression of his strong emotion. What worried her though was that the light seemed to dim. Looking concerned to the ceiling and back to Draco, she threw Hermione a glance. Hermione wasn't looking at her though, but at Draco.

"Draco. Draco! It's okay. She doesn't know. You are okay. I am here. Here. Feel my hand. Your wand is in your holster. Hold it." She softly cajoled, forcing his left hand open from the painfully tight fist it had been in and holding it. Adele didn't see the movement completely, but one moment Draco's right hand was empty and in the next he was holding a wand. His breathing had accelerated and he was blinking fast. Adele stood and moved to her desk. Behind it was a refrigerator and her medicine cabinet. Getting water and a mild sedative, she moved back to her chair. Hermione continued talking to him. Softly assuring him that he was safe. It seemed as if wizards could read minds and she didn't even want to think about the consequences if such an ability was abused.

 **AN: So, a little apology here if I got some of the legal terms wrong. If any of you noted an error, please tell me so that I can fix it. Again I am afraid I will have to ask for patience, so that I can get the next parts right. Emotions will run high and the plot thickens. :)**

 **I am still looking for a good cover image for this story. If someone has an idea or can recommend anything, please leave me a message. I've been scouring the internet for something appropriate, but unfortunately couldn't find anything yet. Kudos to all the creative heads out there. Be it drawn fan art or digital. I especially like the made up Daily Prophet ones. ;)**

 **Have a good one and thanks for the continued support!**

 **AN Update: Thanks to the guest for pointing out my continuity error concerning Dr Adele MILLER's name. :P Sorry about that. I had rearranged my desk and my character sheet got lost somewhere. Found it again though. ;) Unforunately I am not done yet with the next chapter, so only this tiny update for now.**


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

His back was cold. So cold and all his muscles had seized up. His neck hurt. His blood was rushing in his ears and his extremeties felt heavy and numb. He held on to his wand hard, hoping to counteract the numbness in his hand with force. So long as he kept the pressure up, the decreased mobility couldn't make him loose hold on the one thing that made him feel a measure of safety. They would have to break his hand to take it away.

"Feel my hand. Draco, can you feel it? Please look at me." The female voice seemed vaguely familiar. It was muffled, but it seemed as if she was next to him. How could that be? He had always been alone before. Somewhere far in the back of his mind, information clicked and he managed to assign a name to the voice. Granger...Granger was here? Why? She would never condone this. Would never participate. The muscles in his back were cramping, shooting pain down his spine. Stretching his legs used to help, but he was...sitting down? On a soft, giving surface...what...Breathing deep, he closed his eyes. His mental shields were up and untouched. Normally he would have to repair the cracks those hacks were putting into them by brute forcing the legilimens. Something wasn't right. Hadn't time passed? Was the entire America experience a fever dream? It couldn't be! He had worked so hard and for the first time in years, his future looked promising instead of bleak and lonely. He had friends now. He did. This couldn't be a dream. It just couldn't.

His left hand held someone else's. This was different as well. The air wasn't stale and didn't taste of fear and desperation. It was scented lightly with sandalwood and vanilla. Biting his lip in fear, but rallying the little bit of courage he could scrape together, he opened his eyes again. It was bright. That was different as well. The room back in Azkaban had had no windows. There had been a mirror and he'd known the 'healers' were behind it, watching him. Trying to take a deep breath, his wide-blown pupils followed the arm attached to the hand holding his. He was speechless. He knew it was a trick of the light in the back of his mind, but this image of Hermione would be seared into his mind for the rest of his life. Her eyes were soft and full of compassion for his plight. Their colour seeming almost golden. The highlights in her hair caught the sunlight falling in through the window behind her, giving her a vague halo. His eyes sudden inability to focus properly added to the hazy, dreamlike image.

"Hermione." He managed to press out between gritted teeth. She gave him a soft smile and he felt her other hand caress his cheek. Slowly the cold receded from his limbs.

"Yes, Draco. I'm here. You're in Salem. Do you remember?" Her soft voice further anchored him, calming his frayed nerves. He kept staring into her eyes. As long as he didn't look away, this had to be real. Shivers racked him and panic gripped him again, when his hold on his wand slipped. Hermione's hand was right there though, steadying his grip.

"Take deep breaths. Dr Miller didn't mean anything by it. You know that, right? She's a muggle." As Hermione's gaze left him, he couldn't help but to follow in the hopes of catching it again. He couldn't go back. It couldn't all have been an illusion. A trick of his mind. Please.

"Mr Malfoy, this is a mild sedative." The black woman's voice was unfamiliar to him. Her face showed compassion, while she remained seated on her chair with a table between them. Her finger pointed at a pill on the table and he noted a bottle of water next to it. He knew the label. Had seen it many times in muggle cafés and bars. No one in Brittain would offer this. Looking to Hermione and keeping a death grip by now on her hand, he waited for her verdict. At her nod, he reached for the pill, still wary of whether this was truly reality.

"It is perfectly safe, Mr Malfoy. It will help you relax a bit, nothing more." The woman assured him. Hermione reached out and took the bottle. She opened it with difficulty, since he still wouldn't let go of her hand. He held the pill to his lips and looked to her. Encouraging she nodded and held up the bottle. Swallowing the rough pill, he immediately took several sips of the cold water. Stopping for a short breath, he raised the bottle again and emptied it in a few, big gulps. Breathing heavily now, the action forced more air into his lungs and as a result the muscles in his back and chest had to work harder and relax from their former stiffness. Looking up, he met Hermione's worried gaze, while Dr Miller nodded with a soft smile.

"There. I hoped you would do that. Do you feel a bit more yourself?" She asked in a kind tone. Still not feeling comfortable in his own skin, he only nodded.

"Good. We'll wait a moment for the sedative to take effect. Would you like more water?" Dr Miller asked and rose. Exhaling a shuddering breath and feeling slightly mortified at the moisture burning in his eyes, he nodded. Dr Miller didn't react to his show of weakness, but simply turned around to her desk and the refrigerator behind it. Blinking rapidly, he tried to keep the humiliating tears at bay. He'd beaten that place! He'd beaten the attempts of those so-called 'healers'!

The slight pressure from a soft hand cradled in his left one had him turn his head to Hermione again. She wore an understanding, sad smile. The fingers of her other hand gently caressed his right hand, which was still desperately clutching his wand.

"Try to continue taking deep breaths. It's always helped me." She suggested in a soft voice. Unable to locate his voice in the swirling mess that was his body at the moment, he could only nod again. Staring straight ahead, he concentrated on his breathing and as feeling slowly returned to his body, a flush worked its way up his face. Embarassment burned him. He'd wanted to be a source of strength for Hermione today. Not the other way around. Carefully he extricated his hand from hers, returned his wand to its holster and nodded to Dr Miller, when she reached him a new bottle. Thankfully he wouldn't have to worry about an undignified bout of burping as both bottles contained still water. As his throat felt as dry as aged parchment, he emptied this one in record time as well. Setting down the bottle, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting go of the air slowly, he rallied himself. It was time to face the music.

"I am sorry." He apologised, turning to both women. Dr Miller accepted his apology with a dip of her head, while Hermione stared at him with a shocked expression.

"Sorry? For what?" Hermione asked incensed. "You did nothing wrong!"

While he found it heartening that she didn't find fault with him, he was disappointed in himself. He had failed her yet again.

"Maybe, but this was meant to help you. I am afraid that my...episode has unduly cut short our time." He looked to Dr Miller for confirmation. The Doctor sat in her chair, observing and silent. Her face, while kind, could give a sphinx apoplexy in how mysterious it was. He had no idea what Dr Miller was thinking and that was saying something. Reading your opponent was more than a pastime among Slytherins. It was a vital survival technique. After all, how were you supposed to ferret out your opponent's weaknesses while making light conversation otherwise, pardon the pun.

Before Hermione could go off on him, as he saw she wanted to do in her passionate defense of him, Dr Miller raised her hand to stall her.

"Mr Malfoy, you haven't cut too much into our time, I assure you. As this is a rather special session and Hermione didn't want to unduly take up too much of your time, we agreed to have two sessions in a row." She explained. While he was glad that he hadn't wasted Hermione and Dr Miller's time, he was also anxious what the next hour or two would bring. They had only been a few minutes in when his demons decided to turn him into a sorry mess.

"While I would like to address your reaction, Mr Malfoy, I fear that we can't. Unless it is connected to Hermione?" Dr Miller inquired. He could appreciate her professionalism. It had to be tough for her to see him in obvious distress and not being able to treat him. He wasn't her patient and from what he'd read, therapy was all about accepting the help offered and the will to work with the therapist on ones problems. Something he definitely didn't feel ready for.

"No. Not directly anyway." He sighed and got up. He felt restless and needed to stretch his legs and moved his shoulders in an effort to loosen the muscles in his back. Dr Miller accepted his cryptic response and he wondered how she was able to do her job. He doubted that any of her patients came right out and said what was on their minds. At least not until trust had been established. It was scary. Telling another person, in essence a stranger, your deepest, darkest thoughts and fears. Possibly even desires. As a person who had dealt heavily in the business of emotional manipulation and occasional blackmail, he knew exactly what kind of pitfall this could be.

"Do you mind if I open a window?" He asked and moved towards one.

"Go ahead. It won't open all the way though. Safety for my patients." She explained when he looked back. Nodding he opened the window a crack. Like the windows he'd seen in Germany and France, Dr Miller's tilted inward, allowing the air to move in, but no person would ever be able to squeeze themselves through the small space in between the window and frame. Breathing deeply of the fresh air, he still felt warm. Removing his jacket, he folded it neatly on one of the chairs and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He did it on auto pilot, much like when he was in his office.

"Interesting tattoo." Dr Miller commented, prompting him to immediately let the sleeve of his shirt to fall back down. Looking at both women, he saw Hermione frown and Dr Miller with a raised eyebrow.

"It's...It is not something I am proud of." He lamely explained and let the other sleeve fall back down as well. Symmetry was important. And neatness. So he redid the cuffs and sat back down. Dr Miller nodded.

"Alright. To come back to the argument you two had earlier, about Hermione hitting you when you were thirteen?" Both Hermione and Draco had completely forgotten about that childish spat. Both of them blushed a bit, when they thought how juvenile it had been. Adele thought their reaction slightly amusing.

"While I can understand Hermione's standpoint, I can also understand yours, Mr Malfoy. Hermione, try to put yourself in Mr Malfoy's shoes at the time. Here he was, the scion of an old, proud family, injured by an animal for a foolish action. What would his family say? He had an image to uphold. From what I know of old, tradition-steeped families, failure or embarassing the family name doesn't go over well.  
"You also mentioned that one had to show respect. That the hippogriff was the one to take the first step and show acceptance. For a boy, who his entire life had been in a position where he was owed respect, whether warranted or not, it had to have rubbed him the wrong way. To young Mr Malfoy's mind, the hippogriff should have immediately recognised him as his better. Surely he also meant to impress others by his actions and it backfired. To recoup some of his image, he might have come across as a bit...cruel." As she ended, she took both of them in. Hermione seemed thoughtful, while Mr Malfoy stared at her, sitting ram-rod straight. While she could appreciate good posture, it had to be uncomfortable by now. Sighing Hermione met Adele's gaze and gave a nod.

"Yes, well, if you put it that way." She grumbled. "But I am still not sorry for the punch." She said vehemently and turned to him. A small smile tugged at his lips and he inclined his head.

"No apology is required or wanted. I am sorry. Looking back at the events now, I guess I deserved it."

She snorted in held back laughter at his deprecating statement.

"You guess?" She asked with an amused glint in her eye. Keeping the rest of his face straight, he winked. She had no idea how he did that, but it was a hilarious expression to her in that moment. Laughing, she slapped his arm. Adele smiled, relieved that the tension from before and the panic attack wouldn't hold them back too much.

"Good. Let's move on, shall we? Hermione, in our latest sessions you tried to come to terms with the change in dynamic between the two of you." At this Mr Malfoy sat forward, resting his arms on his thighs. His gaze directed at Hermione. Hermione blushed and once more took up the thread-picking.

"Yes. I...It's just...ugh!" Hermione pulled the hair tie off the plait, so that she could run her hands freely through her hair in frustration. "You see? I just can't...I don't know how to explain it. There's so much history between us. Most of it bad. But that was when we were children! Why is it so present? I **know** that you are different now, Draco." She turned to him, sighing forlornly. He gave her a tight smile. Adele tilted her lips in a melancholy smile.

"Experiences from childhood can form lifelong habits, Hermione. It's natural. And besides, your childhood was far from normal. I am not talking about the magic, but the conflict you and your peers, including Mr Malfoy, were forced into. You were pushed to shoulder responsibilities normally reserved for adults. Adults who chose to fight and were trained for it. Both of you had that choice taken from you."

"Would it help if I told you that I wasn't all that keen on the pureblood agenda after you had been petrified?" Draco asked. Surprised Hermione turned to him.

"Petrified?" Dr Miller asked.

"I'd been attacked by a basilisk. A magical snake that can kill by looking at you. Since I'd used a mirror to check corners, I was only petrified." Hermione explained absentmindedly. It made Draco smile. Even when she was semi-speechless, she couldn't help herself.  
"You told me that year that I was only a mudblood and should die." She whispered, which had Adele raise an eyebrow. It was hard to keep her reaction in check. She knew that some kind of racism had been at the core of the war they'd fought in, but the slur indicated a level of hatred and deep-seated conviction that could lead normally sane, kind people to commit heinous acts.

"It was all stories my father told me, until it became real. Mrs Norris was a pain in all our arses and since everyone was there, I kind of had to say what I did. You know, being the Malfoy heir and all that shite. Not to mention that it still irked me that you had probably been right about my father buying my way onto the quidditch team. No one spoke back to me like you did. Vince and Greg would basically do whatever I told them and not to be unkind, but neither of them were intellectual powerhouses. Blaise was not concerned with power plays and most of the girls were already simpering and hoping to become the next Mrs Malfoy." He gave a small shrug. Thinking this over, Hermione frowned.

"We were kids, Draco. Why would they imagine themselves as the next Mrs Malfoy?" She seemed a bit disturbed at the thought. He had been too.

"At that age it was about becoming a princess. It's how they viewed my mother. Living in a big manor, having everything they could ever want and money could buy and a handsome husband. The princess bit became less important as the years passed and it became more about me, my name and the prestige attached to it." As he looked back on it now, he couldn't believe he'd ever taken pride in the person he'd been. The sycophantic prattling of the boys wanting to be seen with him and the faked sighing of the girls after him to secure their spot as his future wife. He'd basked in the attention and seen it as his due. His mother had reinforced that view, but then he'd been her only child. It had never been discussed in his family, but he had always suspected that his parent's hovering and high expectations rose from the fact that he was the only child of theirs that had lived.

"Such attention can get to ones head. I assume that no one challenged you or your opinions?" Dr Miller asked and roused him from his thoughts. Chuckling he shook his head.

"No. All wanted to stay on my good side. Well, not all." At this he threw a slanted smile at Hermione. Hermione chuckled and leaned back into the couch.

"If your ego would have been any bigger, there wouldn't have been enough room for any of us in the great hall." She joked and was heartened to see him answer her own smile. She had taken a chance with that comment, since her former criticism had been met so harshly by him.

"I had to give your intellect some competition. Merlin knows I never got a chance in class." He leaned back into the couch now as well, resting his ankle on the knee of his other leg, turning towards her.

"Oh shush! I wanted to make an impression. I've always liked knowledge and learning. And being a muggleborn, I felt that I had to catch up to the rest."

"So you wanted to prove yourself?" Adele interjected. Hermione turned to her. She mulled it over a bit and nodded. She had touched on this topic with Janet back in the UK.

"Yes. I wasn't pretty, I didn't have any outlandish hobbies or talents and was a newcomer to the magical community. I'd always been interested in things my peers found boring. I had a few acquaintances in primary school, but no truly close relationships. I'd always felt different. Coming to Hogwarts, I wanted to fit in." She explained a bit shy.

When Draco heard this, he felt even worse about how he'd treated her. He remembered how excited he'd been about going to Hogwarts for the first time. Months away from the stifling presence of his father and his hovering mother and all the time he wanted to practice his flying with his friends. He remembered those first few months and how Hermione had changed from the excited girl, always putting her hand up, to the sad shadow always putting her hand up. Even his dickish, eleven year old self had felt sorry for her at times and even passed on opportunities to tease her. He didn't notice Adele observing him from the corner of her eye.

"I guess I was a bit too enthusiastic in my approach. I can get caught up in things. I like to plan and once I've set my mind to something it's hard for me to change. I don't like being wrong. It's something I've been working on." Hermione continued.

"It's not necessarily a bad trait, Hermione. Without your planning, Potter and Weasley would never have made it very far." Draco interjected and Hermione was surprised to hear the clear respect in his voice.

"You think so?" She asked, unsure. Draco threw a glance at Dr Miller, but when she only inclined her head in silent encouragement, he turned back to her.

"Of course I mean it. I know that I used to lie and cheat a lot, but that is not me anymore. Life is too short to mince words when it comes to those important to you. While I may have whined about you, tried to put you down, I couldn't help but be impressed by your intelligence and your tenacity. It vexed me too, of course. That punch I was complaining about earlier was a turning point for me." He chuckled a bit at this admission, due to the almost comic widening of her eyes.

"Really? I would never have guessed." She said surprised. Rubbing his hands, he leaned forward.

"Yes. It might not have knocked sense into me, but it put a crack into those walls I'd built in my mind and around my preconceptions. I certainly complained a lot about it, but it had been the first time there had been true consequences to my actions. I always knew when I would go to far and may face punishment. At times I would take a chance, accepting the risk of punishment and I would always be able to see it coming. Not in that case. It surprised me that someone would dare challenge me like that. It made me think. Maybe for the first time in my life." He grew uncomfortable and stood to look out the window.  
"While I was the prized scion of House Malfoy, heir to one of the oldest houses of the sacred twenty-eight, I was never allowed to be anything else. From the moment I could talk, my views, preferences and future were all explained to me in detail. What to do, how to act, whom to associate with." He rubbed his brow, feeling a headache coming on. It had been normal to him at the time and he'd never thought there could be another way of growing up, until he'd met Blaise and saw how his mother and several stepfathers interacted with his best friend. At first he'd felt sorry for his friend, due to the lack of guidance his mother was providing him. Dr Miller's hummed agreement had him turn to her. It seemed as if she'd come to a realisation.

"Yes?" Draco asked.

"It explains a lot, Mr Malfoy. Thank you for sharing." She simply said and he inclined his head, though he knew not for what exactly she was thanking him.

"It certainly explains his pig-headedness as a teenager, but if the punch had been a turning point, why didn't he question his actions further?" Hermione demanded angrily. Adele turned to her, while Draco did his best to reign in his instinctive need to defend his actions.

"I cannot make an assertion to that effect. Mr Malfoy is not my patient. Why don't you ask him?"

Sighing Hermione nodded, knowing her outbreak had been unfair to Adele. Turning to Draco, who stood next to the window, she decided to take the plunge. Their budding friendship might suffer, but she needed to know.

"Alright, Draco. Why? Why, if my punch had made you reconsider things, did you go along with what happened? I could see that you were struggling with it. Especially in our sixth year. And when...when..." Swallowing repeatedly, she closed her eyes and recited facts from her favourite books in order to keep the panic at bay.  
"When they brought us to the Manor and I was..."

"Stop!" He yelled. Both women jolted in their seats. Draco was not calm anymore. Agitated he stalked back and forth a few steps, his hands now going to his hair and pulling on it. It all crashed back into him. The anger, misplaced admiration, fear, desperation and finally terror and apathy.

"You don't know what you are talking about! You have no idea!" It burst out of him harhsly. Inside he was struggling with himself, as one side of him was incensed that she'd brought all this up again and the other, which reminded him that she of all people deserved answers.

"That is correct, Mr Malfoy. She doesn't. So why don't you explain it. Educate her." Dr Miller's calm voice was a stark contrast to his own shouts. Chuckling darkly he shook his head. The dark part of him was mollified when he noticed the slight paling of the therapist's face and her unconscious lifting of her notebook to put some kind of barrier between them.

"Oh, I'll educate you. You want to know why I didn't change? There was no point!" He'd turned back to Hermione and screamed it at her. Unlike Dr Miller, she didn't assume a defensive pose. Her face closed down and tension radiated from her. There was no doubt that if he were to draw his wand now, hers would be out before he could train it on anyone.

"There is always a point." She pressed out between tight lips. Shaking his head at her naiveté, he again gave a humourless chuckle.

"Oh sure. For you maybe. Not for me. I had obligations, Granger. Even entertaining thoughts contrary to the traditions I was raised with felt like a betrayal. And what would I be without the Malfoy name and assets?! Hm? What became of Sirius Black when he denied his heritage? A vagabond and criminal, that's what!"

"Watch your tone, Malfoy!" Hermione sprang to her feet. The loss of Sirius smarted still. Especially since she felt it had indirectly had been their fault. If they hadn't gone to the Department of Mysteries that night to retrieve that blasted prophecy, Sirius could have lived.

Adele raised her hand, capturing both their attention. She could see the signs and had to prevent this from spiralling out of control. It was good that they were letting go, but it was up to her to channel and direct their argument, so that it served a purpose.

"Family is important to you, Mr Malfoy. I can see that. I guess that this Sirius Black betrayed his family in some way?"

"He only commited the mortal sin of thinking for himself." Hermione asserted acerbically and crossed her arms. Draco snorted.

"That is how you see it perhaps. Have you ever challenged your entire world view? Have you ever felt that the entirety of what you had built your life and perceptions on was a sham? Every time I questioned what my parents told me was right, I felt guilty. And it only got worse!" His smile was deeply sarcastic, as he rolled up his sleeve.  
"I got branded like cattle! The great future and bright ideals my parents, my entire family had built their legacy on was wrong. And I was a part of it with no way out. Call me a coward, but I couldn't bring myself to give up everything and walk away. Not that I would have been given the chance. Any hints of betrayal were immediately reported and used for personal gain." Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes and tried to calm down. This had been a bad idea. Everything he'd fought so hard to overcome came rushing back. Including the confusion, guilt and helplessness he'd felt. Upon opening them again, he was concerned about meeting Hermione's eyes. What he saw astonished him though. They showed compassion.

"There you have it, Hermione. Mr Malfoy had an obligation to familial traditions. As you mentioned a Manor, I am revising my assumption about Mr Malfoy being well off to him stemming from an old blood line. His mention of a sacred twenty-eight also indicates to me that their traditions called for him to hold you in the lowest regard. There is an old adage. Noblesse oblige. Loosely translated it means that being nobility is an obligation. It lies with them to uphold traditions and old values. Serve as a sort of living memory for the community." Adele explained in her soft, cadenced voice, offering both to take a seat again. Hermione retook her seat, while Mr Malfoy remained standing.

"Consider it, Hermione. Not only are you told your entire life one thing and you are comfortable in believing it, but everyone you interact with reinforces and adheres to the same beliefs. After all, it points out how special you are. And shirking all that takes a lot. Not just courage, but also an idea of what you will become after. No matter how confident you are in yourself and your own personality, your environment and your friends and family define and influence you. And everyone is to some degree or other dependent on them for their understanding of how they fit in. Upending all that is a big step to take." Adele watched them and noted that Mr Malfoy's shoulders seemed very tense again. A heavy sigh from Hermione had Adele turn back to her.

"Yes. I guess that I'd realised that on some level, which is why I maybe find it so hard to be confident in his change? I **know** Draco is different now, but..."

"But some part still doubts." As Adele completed her sentence, Hermione sighed forlornly and nodded.

"I am sorry, Draco. You don't deserve my mistrust. Not after what I have seen. After you've proven yourself to be a changed man." She apologised. He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I have no one to blame but myself. You being wary is only natural." He tried to smile, but it was a sorry attempt. Looking down, he saw that his cufflink was still undone and the damned mark still visible. Pulling the sleeve up a bit, he took it in.

"We all transform with time. Some more, some less. When the transformation is radical, we tend to mistrust it. Would either of you be willing to attempt an experiment?" Adele asked, looking from one to the other. Both had mournful expressions on their faces, but both nodded.  
"Help each other to transform a bit. Something small. The willingness to change might open you up to the consideration of more profound changes in the other." Her patient and companion exchanged a long look and finally Hermione turned to her.

"Sure." Hermione answered for them both. A timer went off and Adele closed her notebook.

"I am afraid we have run out of time. We have touched on very deep-seated issues and old grudges between the two of you. Your current relationship is the exact opposite or your previous one and that his has led to confusion and insecurity is only natural. Think on what was discussed here today. Maybe continue your discussion further in private. I know Mr Malfoy revealed private thoughts and feelings and I want to assure you sir, the NDA you signed obligates me to silence. While you officially are not my patient, for the purposes of this one session you were, so all that was discussed here today falls under doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Thank you, Doctor." Mr Malfoy nodded to her and took his jacket. Hermione rose and Adele met her at the door.

"Thank you, Adele. I'll see you next time." Hermione gave her therapist a small smile and shook her hand. The day had been wonderful until they'd come here. She'd had butterflies in her stomach for the first time in years and been contemplating to act on those feelings. Now she wasn't sure. Maybe the appointment hadn't been a good idea. Sighing she left first through the door at the back of Dr Miller's office, so that they would exit directly to the hall. Dr Miller didn't want her waiting patients upset by the possible expressions of patients just coming out of an intense session. It also helped with privacy and all her patients appreciated it. As Mr Malfoy stepped up to her, having put his jacket back on, she looked up at him. He seemed exhausted.

"Thank you for your efforts, Doctor." He mumbled softly, bowing his head. She nodded, but stopped him with a tentative touch to his arm. She at least had to make an attempt.

"Mr Malfoy I would like to offer my services or that of a colleague. It is completely up to you, of course."

He shook his head, a sad smile on his face.

"No, but thank you for the offer. I have learned that for therapy to be effective, you have to be willing to work with the doctor and seek treatment. I don't feel ready for that. For multiple reasons."

"Very well. If you should change your mind, here is my card." Adele offered it to him and she was heartened when he took it and deposited it in his jacket pocket. "Take heart, Mr Malfoy. Hermione truly knows you have become a different person. She is just struggling with reconciling your teenager self with your current one. Be patient and if at all possible, answer her questions." She knew she was being forward in addressing him this way and asking for such assistance, but she felt it would help both. And she would do almost anything to help her patients.

"I will do anything Hermione needs." Mr Malfoy's answer surprised her, but before she could comment further, he'd left. Sighing she closed the door and sat back down in her chair. She would feel more optimistic if she knew that both would come back next session, but guessing from Mr Malfoy's reaction that was highly unlikely. She just had to trust that he and Hermione would follow her recommendation.

 **AN:** Here it is. It took me quite some time and a few re-writes. If I misrepresented anything, my apologies to therapists around the world. You are doing wonderful and necessary jobs.  
Thanks again to the guest pointing out my continuity error. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Have a nice one!


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Blaise sat in Draco's office, making notes in the files they had on the team members. Theo had made some suggestions after he'd been through with his kids. He chuckled when he thought back on it. Within half an hour, Theo'd had them dancing to his tune. His old friend had them get up on the stage and assume a choir formation. Then he'd made them sing and Blaise winced a bit. Just as Theo had pointed out, when everyone in a choir did his own thing, it sounded horrible. Both had noted though that some actually were in tune with each other. As Theo had the better ear, he'd updated Blaise on those and this was why he was here now. His messy scrawl was a far cry from Draco's elegant script flowing across the pages and Granger's neat, precise handwriting. With a smile he closed the last file he'd pulled, pondering where he could take Jane tonight for dinner, when the door was pushed open harhsly. Frowning he looked up and swallowed his protests, when he saw Draco's face. No greetings were exchanged, as Draco headed directly for the hidden liquor cabinet, grabbed a glass and high price bottle of firewhiskey and started to get blasted. Sighing Blaise shook his head. Draco had confided in him what was happening today and he'd thought it a bad idea. Seems he'd been right. Now he would have to cancel his as yet non-existant plans with Jane and instead get his friend to talk.

"Tough day?" Blaise asked in a bad attempt at humour. Draco flinched and stopped dead. Slowly his head turned. He looked as if Blaise had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Chuckling Blaise rose and took the bottle from Draco. Looking at the label, Blaise shook his head.

"That is much too fine a whiskey to chug it like you're doing. Come on. This calls for a boys night in."

Frowning Draco didn't resist when Blaise removed the glass from his hand.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, while Blaise recapped the bottle and proceeded to steer them out of the office.

"Just what it sounds like. Just looking at you is making me tense. It's not healthy." Blaise's quip managed to elicit a smile from his old friend. Good. Together they left Duelling Hall, greeting the students they passed. Once outside, Blaise stopped and turned to Draco.

"You refilled your bar after our reunion bash when I first came here, didn't you?" He asked, worried. Draco chuckled.

"Reunion bash? You emptied almost all my prized whiskey bottles." He complained. Blaise snorted.

"Sure. And that you were unable to stand and complained that the floor kept moving in the other direction was because of a confundus charm." His sardonic tone made the statement all that more funny. Draco grumbled, but couldn't really be mad. That evening had been fun. Plain and simple. He'd had a fierce headache the next morning, but it had been so freeing. It had been years since he'd simply gotten drunk for no reason and been silly. Singing stupid songs, making childish jokes and having no worries about what would happen tomorrow or the days after. Thinking about it and after the day he'd had, the idea of getting drunk with his friend made him downright giddy.  
Together the two men had made their way to the relatively small university parking lot. Since a lot of the professors preferred living on campus, only a few of them kept cars or other modes of transportation. Draco rolled his eyes, when he saw the flashy Yamaha motorcycle parked in the spot marked 'Grimos'. He himself purchased a motorbike because his instructor had told him it was like riding a broom. With all the protective clothing and the helmet he couldn't agree though. The speed had been exhilarating, yes, but he found that he preferred his cars. Blaise was grinning as he let his hand slide over the Bentley's roof. Apprecitation in every movement.

"Can I..." He asked hopefully.

"No." Draco's answer was immediate. Wrinkling his brow, Blaise spread his arms.

"Why not?! I'm your best friend!"

"My best friend without a driver's licence. Quit whining and get in. You already get to drink me under a table." Draco fired back with a smirk and got in.

"My best friend without a driver's licence." Blaise aped Draco with a dull voice while opening the front passenger door. "You're no fun ever since you decided to grow up." He continued complaining. Tuning him out, Draco started the car and hummed along to the song on the radio, he was perfectly able of ignoring Blaise's tirade of how uncool he'd become as he'd aged.

xXx

Hermione had tried to distract herself by getting some work done. She'd blasted through the papers she'd had to grade and her notes on her students were all up to date. Her head was still full of questions and her emotions were a big jumble. She'd never thought about the other side of the equation. It had been easier to simply put her peers following in their parents' footsteps in the enemy category and focus on her own survival. It disappointed her. She, who had always campaigned for people seeing beyond the outer layer and not judging people and creatures for who or what they were, to fall prey to that same kind of generalisation and blindness shocked her. She'd always imagined herself to be more open, considerate and smarter. It was a bitter pill to swallow that she could be as prejudiced as the rest.  
Rubbing her face and laying down her quill, she leaned back into the comfortable leather wingback chair she'd occupied ever since leaving her classroom a few hours ago. The moment Draco had returned them to the campus, both of them had basically run to their respective sanctuaries. Him to his office and her to her classroom. She would have preferred the library, but she'd still had work to do. The drive back had to be one of the most uncomfortable ones she'd ever had. Including the one time her father had to take her to the gynecologist when she'd been a teenager. Both of them had agreed never to mention that particular day ever again. She had never imagined a more uncomfortable situation. Well, now she had and it didn't sit well with her. She wanted the ease back she'd had when around Draco. The banter, the flirting, the butterflies and the niggle of hope that there maybe was something more.  
Giving a frustrated sigh, she closed her notebook and looked around. The Lounge was emptying as the day was winding down and the professors left for home or their lodgings on campus. The Lounge was open twenty-four-seven, since some of the professors preferred to spend their time here and they had access to the library through a nifty alcove. Hermione had been happy to discover that Salem University employed several families of emancipated house elves. They had received special training and would fetch any book or tome a professor requested from the library. House elf liberation was still a hot topic around the world. While many elves still refused to be freed, to set in the centuries of traditional servitude, an increasing number had found the strength to break with that tradition and ask for wages. Though those wages sometimes took weird forms, like asking for a new sock each month or a sweet, it was a step in the right direction. She'd had wonderful discussions with Daniel Solomon, the resident philosophy professor and a well-known human rights acitivist. Solomon had been at the forefront of the discussion and likened the house elf slavery to that of the African Americans. Being one himself, he had family history to draw upon and had a deeper understanding of the topic. She had been moved when he'd told her about how his grandfather told him years ago about the first time he had been allowed to vote. Despite the tale being second-hand, it had still brought a tear to her eye.  
The only one still seeming to work was Jane O'Brian, sitting in another leather chair with two books open on her lap and a notebook open in her hand. A pen was stuck in her hair, another behind her ear and a third in her hand, poised above the notebook. Hermione had to smile, as this picture was all too reminiscent of herself. Sighing again, she looked to her own notebook and wished she could at times return to the simple times when all she would worry about was what she could study next. Research and study had become an escape for her by now. It no longer was the wondrous discovery of her childhood and teenage years, but an exercise in getting her thoughts to turn away from memories and the dark horrors lurking in her dreams.

"Everything all right?" Jane's voice had her look up and attempting a smile.

"Hard day that's all." Hermione shrugged and hugged her notebook. Jane noticed, sighed and closed her own. Ever since the brunch at Draco's, she'd sought Hermione out in the Lounge and found the other woman not only to be fiercely intelligent, but funny and interesting. They had a lot of things in common, among them a love for books, cooking and they both had a secret little crush on Jon Snow. None of the other professors seemed to watch Game of Thrones, but Hermione not only watched it and owned all seasons currently out on blu-ray, but she'd also read the books. They'd spent some time while having lunch together not only discussing her paper, but also trying to suss out who Jon's father was, as it had been hinted that in the current season it would be revealed. The day after the episode had aired, both women had immediately sought the other out. Jane decided that her new friend needed an ear.

"All right, out with it." She sat down in a chair next to Hermione after stowing her books and notebook. Surprised Hermione looked to her. Jane only raised an eyebrow. Sighing again and shaking her head, Hermione slumped a bit.

"I just had a bad day. Sorry that I can't go into details. I went to one of my appointments today."

Jane knew about Hermione's therapist, not only because she'd inadvertantly spied on the other woman's phone, but also because Hermione had told her. Jane had found a whole new respect for her, due to her being so open about her seeking medical assistance. She didn't know if she would have the guts to admit to new acquaintances that she was seeing a therapist.

"Hard session apparently. OK. Time for a girls night, then." Jane decided spontaneously. Hermione smiled and angled her head.

"Girls night?" She asked. Jane nodded eagerly, already planning a bit in her head. She'd gotten a text from Blaise that he wouldn't be coming over tonight, so that was sorted. She still had some tequila, whiskey and wine in her apartment, so drinks were good. For food they could order at that pizza place a few blocks over. Their delivery guy was delish and maybe the thing to cheer Hermione up. And they could rewatch some of their favourite GoT episodes, booing whenever Geoffrey or Ramsay was on the screen. Maybe hissing at Littlefinger, that little, manipulative prick. Yes. That sounded good.

"Sure. Come on. My place, pizza, some wine, maybe a few tequila shots and GoT. We'll make it a game. Whenever someone dies, we take a shot." Jane winked and Hermione had to laugh, but rose when Jane did.

"We'll be smashed in no time." Hermione protested mildly. Jane shrugged.

"So? That's the beauty of being a witch! A few spells and a sober-up potion later, we'll be fit as fiddles. Come on. What do you say?" Eagerly Jane waited for Hermione's answer. Slowly a smile spread on Hermione's lips and she nodded. It did sound good.

Hours later Hermione and Jane were slumped on Jane's squishy sofa, wineglasses filled with tequila loosely held in their hands, clad in comfortable pajamas and absolutely smashed. While Hermione had transfigured hers, Jane had changed before they'd started on their GoT marathon. It was still running in the background, but since both of them knew the episodes so well, they didn't really need to look to know what would happen next. As Jane had surmised, both of them jeered whenever a character was on screen they didn't like. When Jane booed again, Hermione shoved her a little.

"No! Not him. He's just misunderstood." She slurred. Jane tried opening her eyes wide.

"Clegane?! Misunderstood? How exactly?" As another head rolled on screen, they both took a sip.

"Just...misunderstood! I mean with the Mounain as your big brother? And that fucking dipshit as king. Can we fast forward to the wedding. It was so satisfying to see the little dipshit bite the dust." Hermione gesticulated wildly, almost spilling her drink.

"Ough. OK. He does have his moments. And I guess I did feel sorry for him when I read the books." Jane admitted. Jabbing her finger at Jane, Hermione leaned towards her.

"See! He isn't all bad." Toasting herself, Hermione took another sip. Frowning Jane looked to the screen. No one had died, but what the hell. Shrugging she took another sip herself.

"But we can agree that Geoffrey is a first-rate psycho, right?"

"Oh hell yes! No redeeming qualities whatsoever." Hermione agreed to Jane's question. Mollified, Jane leaned back into the couch, looking to her ceiling.

"I...am very drunk." Jane stated seriously, which had Hermione dissolve in snorted giggles. Finally catching herself, Hermione sat up primly, swinging her glass.

"You're surely wondering what a place like this is doing in a girl like me." She quoted. Jane's eyes bugged and both dissolved again into laughter.

"I love that movie! And especially that quote! It only works with a British accent though and mine is horrible." Jane swiped a tear from her eye. Merlin! She hadn't had such a good time in a long while. She had a lot of friends, but none of them were quite as geeky as her. It seemed as if she'd finally found a movie buddy.

"This is not the time to argue about time! We don't have the time!" Jane stated dramatically, affectively swiping her hair back. Clapping a hand in front of her mouth, Hermione tried to keep the sip of tequila in. Swallowing with difficulty, she laughed loud.

"Oh my god! I loved that movie! It's my favourite in the franchise." She stated. Jane squealed. Definitely a movie buddy.

"Mine too! Insurrection was funny too, but First Contact was definitely better." They clinked glasses, silently agreeing. Further bonding was interrupted by Jane's phone vibrating and moving along her coffee table. Groaning she leaned forward, using her foot on the floor as counterbalance. For some reason she was convinced the weight of her boobs would tip her over. Picking up the phone and leaning back into the couch, the shifting of her weight had Hermione slide closer to her.

"Who is it?" Her new friend asked. Sighing Jane rolled her eyes.

"Blaise. It's sweet that he calls in the evening when we don't see each other to talk about my day and all, but sometimes I get the feeling its a bit much." She complained. Sighing Hermione looked to the ceiling.

"I would love for a hot guy to call me in the evening to talk." She said wistfully. Frowning Jane studied her phone, not really listening.

"Since when does he know how to use FaceTime." She wondered absently and swiped over the screen. The bleary look in Blaise's eyes indicated clearly that her boyfriend was as drunk if not drunker than her.

"Hay baby." He winked laboriously. His coordination was a bit off. Trying to keep from laughing, Jane bit her lip. Hermione had caught his attempt from the side and turned away, so that her snorted laugh wasn't audible.

"Hey handsome. What's up?" Jane replied, poking Hermione to stop her laughter.

"You drinking without me?" Blaise asked, pouting. Jane stuck her tongue out at him. "Tease." He tried winking again. Hermione was by now biting on her fist to keep from laughing out loud.

"I decided I'd have a girls night, since you're at your own place for once." She mocked.

"He's not!" A voice behind Blaise shouted.

"Shut it! I'm talking to my girlfriend and you're not invited!" He called to someone behind him.

"Blaise has a girlfriend! Whooo!" Two male voices mocked Blaise in a singsong. By now both Jane and Hermione couldn't keep it in anymore. Especially since someone behind Blaise had started singing 'I just called to say I love you'. The voice was not making a mockery of the song to Jane's surprise. If her boyfriend was this sloshed, she didn't doubt the rest of them were as well.

"Will you two cut it out? You're just jealous." The picture on the phone was jostled and Jane saw that Blaise apparently was at Draco's, judging from the furniture. Another man's face was suddenly very close to the screen, continuing to croon the lyrics. As the other man moved the phone back a bit, to belt out the chorus, they could see Draco wrestling with Blaise, who was trying to get his phone back. Draco's accompanying rendition was not as perfect, due to the continued jostling from Blaise. The man on the screen raised his eyebrows a bit, when he caught sight of Hermione leaning in and smoothly transitioned into a beautiful song Jane didn't know. Hermione squealed though, edging closer and fully looking at the screen.

"That's from Lord of the Rings!" She explained. Jane raised an eyebrow.

"Damn nerdy girl. Where have you been all my life?" She slurred happily, toasting Hermione. Both took a drink, swaying to the stranger serenading them.

"Theo! Give it back! Now!" Blaise yelled from the background.

"Shut it! Unless you have something to sing, let him entertain us." Jane complained. Straightening, Blaise nodded, shaking Draco off, who collapsed laughing to the carpet.

"Remember you asked for this." He pointed at the screen, since the Theo guy now pointed the camera straight at her boyfriend. Like the true showman he was, he struck a pose and started to sing.

"Wheeeen theee mooon hits your eye  
like a big pizza pie  
that's amoree"

Suddenly Draco and Theo appeared on the screen, singing in high-pitched voices in the chorus.

"That's amoreee!" Laughing hysterically by now, Jane lost hold of her phone and held on to Hermione, who was having trouble breathing due to her laughing just as hard.

"Where did you go? I wasn't finished." Blaise's voice called out and Jane got herself a bit under control and raised the phone again.

"Sorry, honeybun." She teased. The men behind Blaise had their chins in their hands, leaning on the dining room table.

"Honeybun..." They sing-songed and dissolved into laughter. Blaise turned to them, raising his glass to be able to point at them with a finger.

"You guys suck! You're just jealous I've got a girlfriend and you don't."

"Psh! I have both in one and the same person, whatever fancy strikes us." Theo waved the comment off. Draco's glassy eyes looked off into the distance a smile on his face.

"I have a work wife." He mumbled, which was lost in the general humdrum.

"What are you drinking?" Jane asked, trying to glimpse a label. Blaise turned to Draco, who still stared dreamily off into nothingness. When he didn't react to his name, Blaise shoved him.

"Open that floo of yours. Jane, get your friend and get over here. Draco's giving out the good stuff." He wiggled his eyebrows. Jane turned to Hermione, who was swaying on the couch, still humming 'That's amore'.

"You up for it?" It was a crazy idea all around and if any of them had been sober, no one would think this was a good idea. Right now though, Hermione couldn't think of anything that would be more fun.

"Let's go!" She crowed, getting up and almost falling over. Catching her, Jane got up too and turned back to her phone.

"See you in a minute sweetcheeks." She mimed a kiss at the screen and turned it off. Swaying both women stumbled to the fireplace. Frowning Jane tried to find her balance and in the end held onto the mantelpiece.

"Do you know Draco's address?" She asked. She was sure she knew it. Hadn't she been there once? Oooh! Yeah. She met Hermione there. Giggling Hermione nodded and grabbed some floo powder, before stumbling into the fireplace, pulling Jane with her. The back wall stopped them from falling over.

"Penthouse Suite, Sentry Tower, Salem!" Hermione managed to call out clearly and off they went.

Luckily the men were waiting for them, since they spun out of the fireplace and with their impaired sense of balance would have landed on their arses. Jane hugged Blaise, tugging his face to her in an exaggerated fashion.

"My hero!" She crooned. Theo laughed behind them, already filling glasses for the new arrivals. Draco had caught Hermione and the minute their eyes caught, they were dead to the rest of the world.

"Hi." He whispered. Due to the way he had caught her, her face was close to his, her front pressed to his. Would she mind if he didn't let her go? Blushing and smiling shyly, she bit her lip and looked away.

"Hi." Hermione had wanted to say something clever, but for whatever reason, her head seemed completely empty. Unbeknownst to them, the others watched them and Theo raised an eyebrow at Blaise, subtly nodding in their direction. Blaise shrugged and hoisted Jane up to carry her to the dining room. Her shout jostled Hermione and Draco from their little universe. Clearing her throat, she took a step back, regretting it immediately as she missed the warmth of Draco pressed against her.

"If it isn't the brightest witch of our age, Hermione Granger herself. In absolutely fetching unicorn pajamas no less." Theo quipped, bowing. Self-conscious, but overplaying it by confidently standing straight and proud, Hermione turned to him. Behind her Draco was staring down her shirt. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But the view was just **there**! Theo bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Theo Nott I presume?" Hermione's attempt at stand-offish was ruined by her having to lean into Draco to keep from falling over. He bowed again, almost losing his balance and face-planting in front of her. A hasty step forward prevented his fall.

"The one and only." He tried to recapture some of his suave posture by brushing his hair back. Hermione snorted and sashayed past him.

"I was promised booze!" She exclaimed, looking to the dining room table. It held a variety of bottles, various citrus fruit and the remains of Chinese take-out. Oooh! Did they have any spring rolls left? Eagerly she began checking boxes. Draco had followed her from his travel room, his gaze glued to her arse, while she was completely unaware. Theo was though and thought it hilarious.

"Anyone want a cocktail?" He asked, controlling his laughter. Jane turned to him from her perch on the table, while Blaise continued nuzzling her neck.

"You can do those?" She asked. Nodding he grabbed a silver shaker.

"Sure. I'm not just an amazing musician, but also a great bartender." He boasted. Muncing on a spring roll, Hermione turned to him.

"You have a bar too? Draco only said that you were an instructor at Peabody."

Starting to mix a drink, he shook his head and gave her a pitying glance.

"Darling, I am a man of many facets." He snobbily told her. Draco chuckled behind them.

"And of many dresses." He quipped. Theo pointed the shaker at his friend.

"You're only jealous because **I** look fabulous in them." He sniffed and started juggling the shaker like a pro.

"That I have to see!" Hermione crowed. Theo grinned and leaned toward her, resting his weight on his forearms on the table.

"I only perform on special nights, sweetness. To get in, you have to be able to sing or play an instrument." He explained.

"Yes! I can play the guitar!" Jane raised her hands in triumph, dislodging Blaise in the process.

"Hey! I was in the middle of something there." He complained. She waved him off, and shoved him back into place with her other hand.

"Yeah. Falling asleep, lightweight." While Blaise pulled back offended, the others laughed. Theo pointed the shaker at her, standing again to his full height.

"Then you get to come. You'll have to play though, so no lying."

"On my honour as a witch." Jane promised. All eyes now turned to Hermione.

"What?" She asked, her mouth full with the last bite of spring roll. Normally she would be appalled. After all, she'd spent years berating Ronald for exactly this behaviour.

"Well, Granger, what is it? Singing or instrument?" Theo pushed. Sighing Hermione reached for the bottle of firewhiskey, pouring a good amount into a tumbler.

"I can play an instrument, but it'll be a surprise. I like to sing, but I'm not any good." She shrugged and drank a good half of her glass. The men raised their eyebrows when she didn't even wince. Hermione only nodded to herself.

"Nice." She commented, topping her drink off again. Theo filled a cocktail glass with the mixture from his shaker and handed it to Jane. Smiling she took a sip, humming.

"Great. This is a bit uncomfortable. Let's sit in the living room." She suggested.

"But what about the books?" Hermione protested. Draco sidled closer to her.

"No worries. I put a protection charm on the shelves before we started." He assured. Grinning she leaned closer to him.

"That's so smart." She sighed. Smiling he cocked an eyebrow and puffed up his chest.

"Thanks. Want to sit down?" He hesitantly took her hand. Sighing Hermione decided that the fluttering in her stomach was due to the attraction she felt and not due to the alcohol.

"Yeah." Was that simpering voice hers? It must be. Sounded like her. Draco didn't seem to mind, as he led her to his living room, sat in the wingback chair and pulled her on his lap. Neither of them thought it odd to sit like this. Theo and Blaise however raised their eyebrows so high, they almost touched their hair. This was new.

As the night went on, they laughed, drank and bonded. Hermione and Draco rarely moved from their places. Only to get drinks, food or to go and relieve themselves. Hermione was happily surprised to discover that Theo was a hoot. Intelligent, funny and utterly full of himself when it came to music. She didn't mind. She liked music, but it wasn't her passion. Draco though got into heated arguments with his friend. And apparently Theo had respect for Draco's opinions, which indicated to Hermione that he was an accomplished musician himself. When Blaise, Jane and Theo were deep in discussion about when to go to Theo's bar, she took the opportunity and turned to Draco. She hadn't realised how close he was. Their lips were almost touching and she shivered in...anticipation? A wonderful tension was building between them and unconsciously her lids lowered.

"You are a musician too?" She asked in an intimate whisper. He only hummed in reply, his lids lowered as well. She could feel the vibration in his chest. Smiling and by way of liquid courage she caressed said chest with one finger through his shirt.

"Would you give me a demonstration of your talent?"

The hand he'd loosely slung around her hip tightened, drawing her closer. Her breath hitched. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled closer to her ear. Softly he began singing and her breath caught in her throat. She recognised it immediately. While she'd found it cheesy, the way he sang it, it got a whole new meaning for her.

"'Cause you're amazing  
just the way you are..."

As he ended on the chorus, he nuzzled the side of her face and pressed a ghost of a kiss to her brow. Maybe it was the alcohol, the late night or that she just wasn't thinking for once, but what she did next, she never questioned. Cupping his face, she pressed a kiss to his lips. They tasted of firewhiskey and honey chicken. Moving back an inch, their eyes locked. Both didn't move. In seconds their breathing increased, heat rising in their cheeks and before either of them knew it, they were kissing again. His hand pulled her closer, the other squeezing her leg. Sighing she rubbed against him, trying to get closer. God, she could climb this man! He tasted divine and whatever he was doing with his tongue should be outlawed. His hair was so soft. Impatiently she pulled the tie from his hair, wanting to run her fingers through the entire length of it. He hoisted her higher without any effort and automatically she found her legs now straddling him. Settling down on his lap, she took control of the kiss. Ronald had never liked that, but it seemed as if Draco revelled in it.  
He knew it was wrong. They were drunk. She wasn't thinking clearly. They'd only been on one date. And that wasn't really a date. He hadn't made his intentions clear. But Merlin could the woman kiss! He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. Even if she hated him in the harsh light of morning, it was worth it. Touching her soft skin, tasting her delicious mouth, it was all worth it. Deciding that if he was in for a sickle, he would be in for a galleon, his left hand moved to her arse. Kneading the firm globe in his palm, he moved her over the painful bulge in his pants. She didn't stop him. She should. Instead she took up the movement and it drove him crazy. Despite the sensory overload, he decided she deserved much better than this and prepared to do the hardest thing he'd ever done. Namely pulling back from this mind-blowing kiss. And then she moaned into his mouth. Groaning, lost, he attacked her with renewed vigour. She wanted it too. They could hash out the rest in the morning. He would treat her like the queen she was. Would woo her like she deserved. Right now she wanted this and he would do anything she wanted.

Blaise was happy he'd invited the girls over. Getting Draco out of his funk had taken some doing, but thank Salazar Theo had decided to drop by. Who knew that the former silent boy could be such a life of the party? With copious amounts of alcohol, a card game and stupid jokes and anecdotes, Draco was quickly back to being a semi-happy camper. Apparently Jane had taken care of Granger and now Theo could meet Jane and reacquaint himself with Granger. A success all around. Looking up, he decided to check on them and almost spit out the drink he'd taken. Jane and Theo looked over to him and followed his gaze. All three's jaws almost hit floor, since Hermione and Draco were making out quite heavily.

"That's not something I'd have expected." Theo commented weakly. Blaise nodded. Jane giggled and shrugged.

"Who cares? They've got good chemistry. I say go Hermione." She quipped and saluted her friend. Blaise shook his head though and stood. If he didn't do something about this, Draco would never forgive him when he sobered up. And Granger would be mortified too. Rising, he stepped up to them and softly pulled on Hermione's shoulder. With glassy eyes and wide-blown pupils she looked up at him. No recognition in her eyes. Yeah. This was a bad idea. Before he could say anything, a hand shot forward and clamped his throat in a death grip. Choking his gaze flew to Draco. He barely recognised his friend. His pupils were deep pools of black with a small sliver of silver around. No recognition was in them either. Hermione had woken quickly from her state however, when Draco was beginning to strangle Blaise. Jane and Theo quickly came over as well. Desperate Blaise tried to pry Draco's hand open.

"Draco! Stop." Hermione yelled. His head turned slowly and the movement somehow seemed so alien, it had shivers run down her spine. She held his gaze though. "Please stop." She implored in a whisper. His hand opened and Blaise collapsed to his knees. Jane knelt next to him, staring at Draco, terrified. Breathing deep, he'd closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw all of them staring at him. Turning his eyes to Hermione he wanted to apologise. Then he saw the fear in them. Everything in him, the hope, the giddiness, it all shriveled to nothing. Rising, he noticed all of them taking a step back. Even her. Swallowing with difficulty, he clenched his hands into fists.

"I am sorry. Please, enjoy the amenities my home has to offer. I won't bother you further." Bowing to the ladies, as was proper, he left for his bedroom. Lenghtening his stride when he felt the moisture in his eyes overflow.

 **AN:** Work is back to bite me in the behind, cutting into my writing time. More to come soon. ;)


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Jane was furious. She was torn between running after the psychotic bastard and caring for Blaise. Her boyfriend sat back on the couch, rubbing his throat from time to time. There were actual marks forming on it! Why did no one but her seem to have the appropriate reaction?! Hermione at least she could understand. The man she'd been kissing quite passionately had turned into a monster between the blinks of an eye. It must be hard. Jane didn't know Theo well enough to judge his reactions, but he seemed too calm for all of this. Just like Blaise.

"What the hell's wrong with you two?!" She finally exploded. Blaise shook his head.

"It's not what it seems." He said in a low, scratchy voice.

"Not what it seems? Your so-called best friend tried to strangle you! What is there to misunderstand?" She fumed. Closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers, Blaise breathed deep. The whole episode had sobered him up quick and he was feeling the early onsets of a hangover. Not ideal. Theo caught his eye and indicated with a subtle tilting of his head that he would check in on Draco. Of the both of them, Theo would be the one who understood the situation better. And he had Jane to deal with.

"You don't know the whole picture, Jane. He didn't mean it." Blaise tried to calm her. Her confrontational stance lost some of its impact due to the fact she was still clad in pajamas and her hair up in a messy bun, held by a bright neon-green scrunchie.

"I don't care about the whole picture, Blaise! There are some things you just don't do. Trying to strangle someone, especially with a face that basically screams psychopath, is one those things." Her eyes flashed in anger. And she was afraid. She'd talked to Draco on campus on the rare occassions he came to the lounge or when she returned his books to him and asked for more. She'd thought he was a nice guy and now, boom! Complete turn-around. And Blaise acted as if this was nothing. As if Draco had just snubbed him and not tried to kill him. Her fisted hands came up an inch, when someone touched her on the shoulder. Flinching, she turned and met Hermione's tired eyes.

"Jane, Blaise is right. There is more to this, but it is not our place to tell." Hermione tried to explain. Shaking her head, Jane pushed the other woman's hand off.

"More? As in more violent behaviour? What is wrong with you people?! Waving shit like that off and saying that it's nothing doesn't make it better!" She turned to the stairs Draco and then Theo had climbed to the next floor. She would give that prick a piece of her mind, since none of them seemed prepared to do so. She'd only taken a few steps, when a strong hand held her back. Turning, she looked up at Blaise.

"Let me go." She pressed out between gritted teeth. He shook his head.

"No, Jane. Draco didn't mean it and I know it looks weird and laissez-faire of us to let him get away with such behaviour. There is a very good reason though." His voice lacked any of the easy joviality she'd come accustomed to.

"Then tell me. I need to understand how you can let him hurt you and be OK with it." She pleaded. Sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his lips pressed together, Blaise shook his head again.

"I am sorry. I can't." He apologised in a soft voice, opening his eyes in a silent plea. Her face fell and for a moment they just stood there.

"I guess that's it then." She whispered and turned away. Blinking he at first didn't realise what she meant. Jane was already well on her way to the travel room, when he managed to get his feet to move.

"Jane!" Blaise called after her. She didn't turn around. "Jane, wait!" His chest was tight and he couldn't get enough breath. Rubbing his chest, he tried to alleviate the tightness in it. Before he could reach her, she'd thrown floo powder into the fire and vanished in a swirl of flames. Reaching for the powder himself, his hand was stopped by a softer, smaller one. Turning around, out of breath, he met Hermione's eyes. Her eyes were soft and understanding and for some reason it almost broke him. His eyes were stinging and he could feel tears in them. Gasping, his shoulders shuddered.

"Why did she leave?" He managed to get out. His voice was raw. Surely it was because of the squeezing Draco had given his throat. Not because Jane had left. No. He didn't get attached. Not like this. Drawing him closer, Hermione hugged him and while he tried to keep up appearances, it only took a moment for his shields to fail him. A sob he was embarassed to discover came from him wrenched itself free from his chest and the tears slid down his face. He was thankful she didn't say anything as he lost it. His mother had warned him so many times. Love was for fools. It never led to anything but pain. He'd seen it in others. Seen how it could destroy and tear lives apart. He thought he'd been above it. Always guarded himself. How had this happened?

"She needs time." Hermione's soft voice thankfully pulled him out of his head. Still he kept his head buried in her hair, not wanting her to see the mess he'd become. He only nodded to let her know he was listening. Squeezing his eyes shut, he barely kept in the hurt moan currently trapped in his throat, as she started to stroke his hair, just like his mother had done. Why was he coming undone like this?!

"I will talk to her. She will listen to me. Trust me." Hermione said, soothing him. She began swaying him a bit and little by little, breathing became easier. The heaviness in his chest didn't lighten, but at least he could draw breath again. Feeling sure he'd restored some of his composure, he stepped back, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He couldn't give a crap about all those proper manners his mother and Draco kept banging on about.

"Sorry." He mumbled, his voice still slightly thick. A soft, sad smile was on Hermione's face, her eyes seeming ancient to him.

"No need." She only said. Sighing and shaking her head, she pushed her hair back. "I...I'll talk to Draco tomorrow. Or when he is ready. Or when..." Frustrated she shook her head and met his eyes. "Just tell him to come talk to me." She said, looking as tired as he felt right now. Taking the floo powder, she entered the fireplace and spun away. For quite a while, Blaise stayed there, staring into the faltering flames.

xXx

Theo slowly climbed the stairs, leaving the irate Jane and his shocked friend and old school acquaintance behind. He'd only known Jane a few minutes and from the incessant praise Blaise had heaped on the girl. He could understand where she was coming from, but he also understood the other side. Only too well. Only a handful of them had survived the war and life imprisonment. The second generation Death Eaters; the lost generation as they'd been dubbed by come asinine arsehole at the Prophet. None of them had been lost. More like sacrificed on the pyre of old traditions and dead-born hopes.  
Looking around, he took in the surroundings. The room was as big as the downstairs dining and living room combined. A giant bed complete with ornate ironwood ends carved in intricate detail and enough silk to clothe an army of geishas. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Draco had always liked extravagant. The midnight blue silk seemed just like his style. In general his décor tended toward darker colours. No green though, Theo noted with a smirk. To the left the entire wall were floor to ceiling windows and one of them was slid open. It led out onto a balcony, which accounted for the rest of the space of the building beneath, making it quite spacious. It even contained a pool. A few stretchers around it offered seats. A hot tub was in a corner and sprinkled among this were small, potted palm trees. Theo was no stranger to wealth and extravagance, but even he stopped and stared at this. Leave it to Draco to have his very own spa next to his bedroom. Taking a step outside, he was surprised to discover that it wasn't nearly as cold as it should be. Or as windy. Touching his wand, he reached out with his magic. As suspected, the balcony was warded and spelled to the gills. It might seem open and airy, but the wards Theo sensed packed quite a punch. All of them ended at the glass railings at chest height. His gaze found Draco sitting at the edge of the pool, his boots next to him and his feet submerged. He'd rolled up his trousers to his knees to make sure they didn't get wet. It brought a tired smile to Theo's face. He remembered an easier, simpler time, when they would do this at Hogwarts. Sitting on the pier, dipping their feet into the Great Lake and their only worries being what extra studies their parents would have them take over the summer. Toeing off his own shoes, he rolled his slacks up and sat down next to his friend. Draco didn't move, but continued staring at the sky, leaning back on his palms. Theo looked up too. Unfortunately not many stars were visible. That was the drawback of the integrated muggle-wizard neighbourhoods. Light pollution. A new term he'd learned. At Hogwarts and the wizarding communities he'd lived, he'd been able to see all manner of stars and celestial phenomena. Not here. He'd gotten used to it.

"Nice night." He commented, leaning back on his palms as well. Silence descended on them, but both were comfortable with it. While Theo liked to be vibrant and outgoing, he at times just wanted to sit and be. It was rare to find someone who could just enjoy the silence with you and not feel uncomfortable.

"Are the others okay?" Draco asked quietly. Theo sighed.

"Blaise knows you didn't mean it. Granger was surprised and drunk. As soon as she's sober she'll know you weren't exactly yourself. And Blaise can talk to Jane. She's his girlfriend. And you know that I wouldn't blame you. I'm struggling with the beast myself."

This elicited a reaction. Sitting up, Draco turned to Theo.

"The beast?" He asked confused. Theo nodded, still looking to the skies.

"It's what Liam dubbed it. I had a nightmare and normally I make sure to sleep alone. I was tired, he was holding me, I felt content and fell asleep. He woke me up and I did what you did. None of us deal well with being startled." He shrugged. "I thought he'd leave me, but he made me talk. We still have a second bedroom for when I have a bad day. But it's gotten to the point where I am thinking about turning it into a studio. I can't even remember my last episode."

"Lucky you." Draco grumbled. "My beast is still very alive and kicking." Sighing he shook his head.

"Last we talked about it, you said it was getting better." Theo said. Shrugging Draco rubbed his hands and looked to the sky again.

"It was. Maybe it's because being around Hermione brings some things back. I don't blame her. I'm sure I bring back bad memories for her too. I just hoped..." He sighed deeply. Theo smiled sadly.

"You hoped it would go away. Give the two of you a chance to start new."

Chuckling darkly, Draco nodded.

"Silly, I know. I should have known better. Experience having taught me better and all that."

Taking a deep breath, Theo decided to suggest something that could bring the beast roaring back to life in an instatnt.

"You know what helped me? I went to a doctor. A muggle one. And it works." He said carefully, keeping a good grip on his wand should it become necessary to defend himself. To his surprise, Draco only gave him a tired smile.

"Tried that today. Wasn't a good experience." He only said. Turning further to his friend, Theo stared at Draco.

"This is huge, Draco! You know they had a go at me as well, even though I was declared innocent. All that shit about finding the seeds of evil in a young mind. Thank Circe the Wizengamot didn't fall for their flimsy excuse of an explanation to just muck around in other peoples' minds without fear of repercussion. But I know that they were allowed to experiment on those in Azkaban. It made me furious. I appealed to the Minister and the Wizengamot. None would hear of it. All much too fascinated with what real therapists could do. And that those didn't protest turned me off the whole therapy thing for a long while. I learned just a few years ago that none of them even knew. Can you believe it? Those self-appointed 'mind healer' hacks didn't even consider running their bright ideas by professionals! When I learned that, Liam had a much easier time getting me into therapy. Add that to the fact my therapist is a muggle and I am all set.  
"And you are right. The first few appointments are not a good experience. At first. They make you think though. And it gets better. Much better. I can't promise you won't walk out of later appointments feeling gutted, because I still do at times. It's freeing though. Getting it all out helps."

Closing his eyes Draco breathed deeply and considered the idea. The session with Hermione had tested his limits. He'd felt himself slipping back into dark places he'd barely clawed his way out of. Opening his eyes and turning to Theo he shook his head with a sad smile.

"I know you mean well, but..." Frustrated Draco shook his head. Theo nodded, putting his arm over Draco's shoulders.

"All in good time." He only said, while Draco looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Getting a little touchy-feely there." Draco observed. Rolling his eyes, Theo groaned.

"Accept a little loving you wanker. You should be so lucky for me to take an interest in you."

Both of them chuckled and continued to watch the stars.

xXx

Finding Jane didn't prove a problem to Hermione, as she tumbled out of the other woman's fireplace. Jane was sitting on the couch, hugging herself and crying. Dusting herself off, Hermione crossed the room and sat on the couch next to her.

"What? You've come to defend that prick's actions too?" Jane asked angrily, her voice dull and raw with tears. Sighing Hermione folded a leg under her and turned more towards Jane.

"No, but I know or at least I can guess why he reacted as he did. While I can't condone his actions, I can at least give him a bit of leeway."

Sniffing, Jane swiped her nose with her hand. Scrunching her nose in distaste, Hermione reached for the Kleenex box under the couch table. Ripping one out, Jane blew her nose.

"And you can't tell me either why all of you are coddling him and enabling that kind of behaviour." She said bitterly. Hermione could understand Jane's frustration and confusion, but she was getting a bit angry.

"Stop it!" She said sharply. Surprised at her tone, Jane stopped twisting the Kleenex and looked at her with wide eyes. Jane wasn't used to people taking this tone with her when she was sad or upset. Hermione nodded, her eyes hard.

"Good. Now listen. Blaise didn't tell you, since Draco told him certain things in confidence. Things that explain why he did what he did. I don't know exactly what those things are, but I can make a guess. Not only because he told me some of it, but also because I've known him for a long time.  
"What you seem to have forgotten is that both Draco and I fought in a **war**! Blaise was lucky enough that his mother was smart and wily enough to stay out of it and keep him away from the fighting as well. Draco and I weren't so lucky. I've seen people die. People I'd known for most of my life. I was wounded, captured by the enemy and at times absolutely certain I wouldn't survive. While I don't know specifics I am certain Draco has some of the same scars I do. Push the right buttons and I can do much worse than he did." Hermione was shaking now, her voice breaking. But she needed Jane to understand. Blaise was not at fault. He was between a rock and a hard place and Hermione respected him more for keeping Draco's secrets in the face of Jane's demands. Swallowing and breathing deep to keep the tears at bay, Hermione edged closer to Jane and took her hand.

"I am telling you this to help you understand. Blaise is only trying to help his friend get past those horrible memories. Consider it. His best friend confides in him and his girlfriend demands of him to pass on those secrets. Would you think more or less of him if he'd answered all your questions?" Hermione caught Jane's eyes and wouldn't let her gaze wander. Jane's defiant stare wavered as her chin started to tremble and more tears flowed down her cheeks. Wailing she hugged Hermione.

"What have I done?!" She cried. Rubbing soothing circles on her back, Hermione softly rocked them.

"Shh. It's OK. I've talked to him. You two need to talk when you are both sober and rested. Don't think about it now." She assured in a calming tone.

Hours later Hermione woke with a crick in her neck and the sun shining blindingly in her eyes. Groaning she turned her head on a neck that felt like rubber, trying to get the sun out of her eyes. Curious. In her bedroom she always lowered the shades. Blinking myopically and taking in the apartment around her, she quickly realised she wasn't at home. Between a yawn and a stretch the events of last night came rushing back. Closing her eyes again on a groan, she rubbed her forehead. God damn it! Why did she always have such shitty luck? Although it was probably for the best that Blaise had stopped Draco and her last night. That would have been one awkward morning after. While she readily admitted to herself that she found him wildly attractive and considered him a friend, there was still a mountain of issues between them. And they had been drunk. Not a good start to any relationship.

"Hermione?" The sleepy voice next to her, had her look at the other end of the couch. Jane's red-rimmed eyes were as unfocused as hers had to have been when she'd woken.

"Yeah." Hermione replied, swallowing in an effort to lubricate her dry throat. "I guess I fell alseep. Sorry."

Jane waved it off sloppily and groaned.

"What time is it?" She asked. Rubbing her eyes again, Hermione rose and looked for her purse and phone. Turning the screen on when she finally found it, Hermione's eyes rounded comically.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed loudly, causing both women to groan and cradling their heads. Hang-over, right. Shaking her head, Hermione quickly stalked through Jane's apartment collecting her things. "It's ten-fifty!" She exclaimed frazzled and waved her wand over her clothes, transfiguring them into one of her usual teaching outfits. Jane's eyes bulged and she shot off the couch.

"What?! Shit! I have to be in class in a few minutes! And I haven't prepared the experiment."

Hermione only nodded, her own thoughts racing through her head. She would have to run to make it to her class. She could do it, but it was hardly dignified. Sighing she pulled her hair into a simple plait, performed a teeth cleaning charm on herself and decided this would have to do. Thank God she only had this one class today and could then head home. Jane rushed into the room, her shirt crookedly buttoned. Their eyes met and both stopped for a moment.

"I'll go see Blaise later." Jane promised. Hermione nodded.

"Good. Thanks." Hermione smiled. Jane shook her head, her face turning serious.

"No, thank you. For kicking some sense into me." An awkward silence settled in. "Friends?" Jane nervously asked. Hermione smiled and nodded. Jane returned the smile and both women continued on their mad dash to make it to their classes in time.

 **AN:** Wow. 30 chapters in. :) Thanks to all of you for sticking with me. We still have a ways to go and I hope you all will enjoy where the story is going. I guess in view of the small milestone I want to give out some hints. :P A night at Theo's bar will be coming up. Draco's past will play a role. Visitors from the old world; welcome and unwelcome. Romance, humour, and general mayhem. ;) I can barely wait and plot bunnies galore gallop through my mind.

At this point I would also like to ask you sneaky Slytherins out there what you would prefer for Stuart. Physical, emotional or psychological revenge? Mwahahahaha! (evil laugh)

Thanks again and all of you have a great one!


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Peter had worked his contacts in Europe to find out more about the British money bag. It hadn't yielded the results he'd been hoping for. The information he'd been able to gather was at times contradictory and hard to corroborate. While he'd been excited when a pal of his had sent him old newspaper clippings of Malfoy being accused of all kinds of dark deeds, other, later editions of the same newspaper had retracted some of their assertions. He'd been ready to puke when one of the magazines sent by an old flame of his named Malfoy sexiest man alive and most eligible bachelor. The note that hag had sent along with it, didn't help to improve his mood either. He'd always believed they'd parted on good terms. Apparently she thought differently.  
No matter. He needed better information, which is why he needed to broaden his network of contacts. And he needed more information. As fortune would have it, he had a direct source readily available in Hermione. He just needed to get a few hints from her and clues he could follow up on. Now that he had a better idea of what questions to ask. To further said investigation, he was once more waiting outside her classroom. Thankfully Malfoy wasn't around this time. Leaning against the wall outside, he rolled his shoulders a bit. He'd gone shopping for a few new outfits. It had cost him a pretty penny, but it had been worth it. Before leaving his apartment, he'd taken a look in the mirror and had to admit that clothes did indeed make a man. The slacks were a bit different from the jeans he liked to wear. Softer and he had discovered that he was more careful in his movement so as not to overly crease or damage the fabric. The shirt apparently had silk in it, which would account for how soft it felt. He'd deliberately chosen a green one, to complement his eyes. The shoes were allegedly manticore hide. While he didn't truly believe that, they did look cool. The dark leather had a shiny finish that changed colours depending on how the light fell on it. If this wouldn't impress Hermione, he didn't know what would. It had worked on just about every woman and girl he'd met so far. So he felt very confident when the doors opened.  
The usual bevy of students passed by him. Some few threw him appreciative glances, while the most frowned and raised eyebrows. He managed to suppress the impulse to check his attire. He had tried talking to some of them, but hardly understood them. He had wanted to learn more about what Hermione taught, but it went way over his head. In the end he'd hummed and nodded along. His efforts had not borne the fruit he'd hoped. Her students were wary of him, mostly only giving him a nod in passing. It seemed his mojo was slipping if none of those nerds reacted positively towards him. He could put more effort into it, but it was early days yet. When he and Hermione were a couple, he would intensify his attempts, showing her he cared about her students. He knew that they were important to her, so he had to make an effort of seeming interested in them as well.

Her voice had him look up and as always a flock of students surrounded her as she exited. Frowning he took her in. She didn't wear the usual professors robes. And her hair was a bit frizzy. As she turned to answer a question all those thoughts about her disheveled appearance flew right out of his head. Hot damn! He'd always known she had a hot body, but he'd never expected her ass to be that spectacular. Straightening his spine, he leaned his head a bit to the side in order to catch her eye when she turned back around. Her eyes widened a bit at seeing him and his chest puffed a bit in pride. Oh yes. Getting a few new threads seemed to have been the way to go.

Grinning Hermione answered Hubert's question about hints for the next test in the negative. The competitiveness in her class had kicked up after she'd had a research representative of one of the potioneer companies give a guest lecture. While she appreciated the increased enthusiasm she now had to curb this very same enthusiasm so it wouldn't get out of hand. She noticed that some of the others kept glancing behind her. Curious she turned and had to swallow. Dear god why now?! Today of all days...shit! She'd completely forgotten about their coffee arrangement. She refused to call it a date, even if he might think of it as such. And what in god's name was he wearing? The shirt had a slight shimmer to it, no doubt due to an unnecessary amount of silk in it. The trousers were too tight across his hips and the boots...had he stepped in oil on his way here? On one hand she had to stop herself from laughing on the other she was simply tired. After all that had happened yesterday, she wasn't ready to deal with this on top of all of that. Sighing and looking down, she berated herself. He deserved to know that she wasn't interested romantically. She feared he'd bought those ridiculous clothes in an effort to impress her. Which meant that she had to make it clear right away, before he put in any more effort or money into a pursuit that wasn't going anywhere.

"Another poor idiot falls for the manticore leather." Hubert snickered next to her. With widened eyes and on the edge of outrage, she turned to him.

"Manticore leather? The manticore is an endangered species! Who in the world would peddle, let alone buy that?!" She whispered in outrage. Hubert raised his hands to calm her, but couldn't stop giggling.

"It's not real. Anyone who knows anything knows it. But it seems to be all the rage now. Vests, shoes, satchels...trousers." At the last his face split into an amused smile. Hermione's eyes bugged, while the girls around them snickered.

"No!" Hermione breathed. "People buy that? And thank you for that very disturbing image in my head." She made a grimace. Hubert winked and inclined his head.

"Indeed they do and it is a very disturbing image. Trust me, I've seen it. Those pants should come with a warning. 'Can induce seizures' or something like it. Like they do for things with rapidly flashing lights and stuff." By now all the girls were laughing loudly, while Hermione tried to keep her composure and Hubert continued to grin. Shaking her head, Hermione waved them off.

"Horrible. Off you go now. That paper I want from you by Monday isn't going to write itself." Chuckling the group turned and as they walked by Peter they threw him glances and snickered. A frown marred his debonair expression as Hermione stepped up to him. Trying to keep her own reaction to his new wardrobe under control, she gave him a small smile.

"Peter, hello. New clothes?" She asked in an effort to say something. Her head was completely empty when looking at him. No conversation topics came to mind. None whatsoever and this more than anything clinched it for her that there was absolutely no future for them as a couple. When she met Blaise, she could talk about their students, art, theatre or world travel. With Jane she could talk about academia and as she'd found out last night to her delight, about all kinds of geeky movies and books. And Draco...with Draco there was no end of what she could talk to him about. History, philosophy, politics, magic theory, potions, arithmancy and books. To find out her old enemy was as much a bookworm as she was had been a wonderful surprise and consummate irony. During their dinner their conversation had flowed freely and without any stop, jumping from topic to topic. Never boring, never dull. And astonishingly arousing.  
Peter on the other hand...when she actually managed to get a word in his eyes either glazed over or he would strong-arm the conversation back to topics he was comfortable with, using hamhanded segues. And the range of topics was incompatible at best. He liked talking about sports, bars and the occasional action movie. And not even the good ones! She liked action movies too, but they had to have a plot. Or be so old that they were silly, like all the old Schwarzenegger or Stallone ones. No. Turned out Peter was a van Damme fan. Ugh! Looking at him now, it kind of explained the trousers. Didn't van Damme used to wear similar ones? Peter had stepped away from the wall and done a little twirl, showing off his new finery.

"Yeah. Like it?" He asked with a smile. Biting her lip, she gave a non-commital head tilt.

"It surely is a unique look." She said and started down the corridor. He fell in step beside her.

"Thanks. Thought it might be time for something new." He smiled and went with his hand through his artfully disheveled hair. Humming in agreement, Hermione had no idea what to say next. He apparently didn't either, since an uncomfortable silence settled between them as they crossed the quad towards the university gates. She only hoped he didn't plan on them getting to Red's on that motorbike of his. She could transfigure her skirt into pants, but she'd never liked motorbikes. Just like brooms they were going much too fast with much too little protection. A car at least had collapsible zones insuring the safety of the passengers. She breathed a sigh of relief, as he led her to the car section of the parking lot. When she saw to which car they were heading, she had to contain a groan. A red Mustang? Really?

Peter heard her sigh and knew exactly how she felt. The Mustang was a sweet ride. It handled like a dream and he was considering buying it. He'd only leased it for the day, since normally he took his bike everywhere. Seeing as she liked to wear those skirts that made her ass look amazing and her legs seemingly miles long, he'd opted for this. It didn't hurt that the Mustang was a nice ride either. Pressing the remote, he stepped forward and opened the passenger door for her. He might not like Malfoy and all that pompous swaggering he did, but stealing a few tricks from your opponent's repertoire never hurt. Especially since he'd seen those very same tricks work amazingly well for Zabini.

"My lady." He offered and waggled his eyebrows. Hermione's seemed a little tired as she got in. Frowning he rounded the car and got in himself. As he started driving and pulling into traffic, he threw her a glance. She'd pulled her hair tie out and was re-doing her braid.

"Long night?" He asked. Snorting Hermione nodded.

"Very late. I had to run to make my class, which is why I gave my lecture without the robes. Don't tell Dean McPherson, please." She gave him a lopsided smile. Grinning he took a turn and turned to her again, when they stopped at a red light.

"No worries. Technically I'm a professor too and you never see me wearing them. I'll keep your secret if you'll keep mine." He winked. Nodding in thanks, Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. Damn. This was not how he'd imagined this would go. She wasn't supposed to be dead tired for one. And while he was pulling out his most charming smiles, she wasn't blushing like she'd done the first few times they'd talked.

"So...Out partying with your fellow professors?" He asked in an effort to keep the conversation going.

"Kind of. I was having a drink with Jane and Blaise invited us over." She said, looking at the passing buildings and shops.

"Have a good time with the love birds?" He asked, forcing a chuckle. When were one of those rich dickheads not around her? Even when she tried to spend a night out with another friend, that same friend dragged her back to one of the money bags. The melancholy smile on her face had him confused.

"Yeah. I did. Some other friends were there as well, so I wasn't just talking at them while they tried to devour each other." He joined her chuckling, since the picture did seem funny, but she suddenly stopped, threw him a glance and seemed very uncomfortable. Stopping the car in a parking lot not too far from the café, he turned fully to her.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Had someone hurt her during that party? A lot could happen if enough alcohol was involved and timid men could turn into monsters. "Did someone hurt you?" He had to make sure she was all right. And if Malfoy had been the one to hurt her, it would just be an added bonus. That way he wouldn't have to try and investigate the other man. Shaking her head, she met his gaze.

"No, Peter. Thanks for asking though. No, it's because..." She bit her lip and he had to lick his own. He could barely wait until she'd let him do it. Straightening her shoulders, she opened the door. "This is awkard. Let us talk while we walk." She said and left the car. Quickly unbuckling, he followed her and locked the car by remote. He joined her on the boardwalk and together they made their way down the street. He took the liberty of softly touching the small of her back from time to time to steer her in the right direction instead of pointing. He thought it clever, while Hermione was a little annoyed. She had looked up Red's on the internet, but not memorised where it was in relation to the landmarks she knew by now. If he wanted to guide her, he should offer his arm or point the way.  
As they walked, she changed the topic to the buildings around them and the history of the city she'd been soaking up like a sponge during her free time as she roamed museums and the streets. It turned out that he knew a lot about Salem. Her hopes were quickly dashed though, as it turned out all he knew stemmed either from his school education, since apparently each and every wizarding high school made it a point to have a trip to Salem at some point, since it brought home the need for the statute of secrecy; or from his years living here ever since he'd become quidditch coach at Salem University. She tried for muggle history, but he'd only done the normal touristy things and even those only half-heartedly. She couldn't believe it. Boston, Salem, Massachusetts in general had been a hotbed of the American revolution and integral in the resulting creation of the United States of America as a nation. As the conversation went on, Hermione told him more about the history that had been **made** here than he knew himself. And on some level, she found it sad. That the great feat of freeing oneself from colonialism and the establishment of democracy was ignored so callously. Just because it was always around and you could always do it tomorrow. She knew from her own experience that some day suddenly there was no tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day they came for you. He was oblivious to that though and it cemented for her that while her 'relationship' with Draco wasn't exactly conventional, normal or maybe even healthy, it was much better than whatever she would be able to find with Peter. He was...too young. Too inexperienced. Not concerning physical age, but simple life experience. She'd bet her favoured books that Peter never had to fight for his life or survival. He'd never had to struggle with anything. His life had been comfortable and she was happy for him, but it also removed him solidly from the possible suitor column. If she had an episode like Draco had yesterday, Peter would run. Hell, Ginny and Harry ran when she lost it. Which was why she'd worked very hard to make sure it never happened again.

A little bell rang as he held the door open for her and they entered Red's Sandwich Shop. The exterior had reminded her of the rough houses she'd seen in cowboy movies. The wood panels outside were of course much better quality, but she loved that in the fast-living world of today, the original architecture of the building had been preserved. The inside seemed also largely unchanged. Old wooden chairs and tables were scattered around and they chose to sit at one with a good view out the windows to the street.

"Would you like to have lunch?" Peter asked and offered her a menu, before taking one himself. Hermione tried for a smile, but she was feeling stressed now. She had to nip this in the bud now. Ordering food seemed too datey. Besides, her stomach didn't give the impression of being welcoming of food at this moment. She'd always been nervous when it came to dealing with romantic issues. It was a shame too. She would have loved to try some of the lobster. Setting the menu down, she shook her head.

"No thank you. Coffee will be fine."

"Okay then." He put up a brave front, but Hermione could tell he was disappointed. Before long both had a mug of coffee in front of them and an uncomfortable silence had settled on them. Breathing deep, she shored up her courage with a sip of coffee and turned her full attention on him.

"Peter, I was uneasy before, because...because I do not see this going where you want it to." She finally got out. Biting her lip, she waited for him to say something. He spread his arms and she could see he was trying to go for relaxed and easy-going.

"Going? Why do you think I want this to go somewhere specific. I just want to be your friend." His smile was a sorry attempt. Shaking her head and with sad eyes, Hermione leaned towards him over the table to softly touched his hand.

"Peter, please. This is hard for me. I'm not used to having such conversations. My female friends were the ones who needed to do it all the time. Not me. I am a nerd, a book worm. When men had to choose between me or one of the other women I was out with, they'd usually go for one of them. I am opinionated, obsessed with my work and at times I delve into it to the exclusion of all else. We have no interests in common I could find and while they say opposites attract, I believe that there has to be some commonality for there to be a spark. I didn't feel a spark, Peter. I'm sorry."

For a moment they just sat there. Her, waiting for him to react and him, nodding from time to time and taking a few more sips of his coffee. He pulled his hand away from hers.

"So you don't find me attractive?" He asked, indicating himself with a movement of his hands. Frowning Hermione sat back.

"Physically, yes, you are attractive, Peter. But that is not all there is to a relationship. At least not for me. It may be old fashioned or prudish, but I need to feel an emotional connection before I even contemplate anything more."

"So that's it then? You don't feel an emotional connection to me? We had only one date." He pointed out.

"True, but we've talked in between. Be honest, Peter. The moment I start talking about potions, charms and arithmancy you tune out. When you talk about quidditch I do my best to listen, since I want to be polite, but I don't like quidditch. I've never liked it. I think it's boring and hazardous. But since quidditch is such a big part of your life don't you think it would be better if you had someone who was if not just as passionate about it at least interested in it? Just like I would like a possible partner to be interested in some of the topics or activities I am passionate about.  
"I like you as a person. Sometimes. You have a very...innocent way of looking at things. And that's good. I am happy that you didn't have to make the experiences I did. That your view of the world is untouched by darkness. It is precious and rare, but you need to know that you have only seen me at my best. There is a whole other side of me. A side you wouldn't like. I fought in a war and while I for the most part managed to get back to the person I was before, a part of me will always be the fighter I had to become. And that hardness in me...it would ruin any romantic relationship you would want with me." Breathing deep, she tried to relax the muscles in her shoulders and back. This was the longest he'd allowed her to talk without trying to wrench the topic back to one that he was comfortable with. Rubbing his hands and licking his lips, he leaned on the table.

"I get it. You've had horrible experiences, but that doesn't mean we can't give it a go. You said there's hardness left in you. Time to soften it up. Live a little, enjoy." He shrugged with a smile. Sighing she shook her head. It seemed as if he didn't want to understand. On the other hand it was more likely that he simply couldn't. He had no comparison, no true experience with loss or hardship. Looking around, she made a decision. Paying for their coffees, she rose.

"Follow me." Sadness veiled her eyes. Confused he frowned but got up and followed her anyway. Together they left the Red's and walked a bit down the street. Looking around, she spied an alley leading to a courtyard at the back of several buildings. Curious but silent, Peter followed her. Stopping in the middle, she took it in. Perfect. No windows, only two ways in or out. No other people around. With practiced ease she cast muggle repellent charms to make sure they were not disturbed and put up disillusionment charms for good measure. Turning to him and stowing her wand, she sighed again, feeling bone tired. Not only because she'd been up drinking last night.

"I won't blame you for running." She said with a sad smile. Pulling his head back a bit and frowning in surprise, he grinned.

"Run? From you? Why should I?" He asked amused. Her smile died and as he watched, the woman in front of him seemed to transform. Her eyes lost their lustre, growing hard and dark. Her face became hard and unforgiving. He'd heard about thousand-yard stares and seen actors attempt them in movies. Now he'd seen the real thing. And it terrified him. Wind rushed into the courtyard, swirling around them. Her hair flowing in the wind, whipping loose from the braid it had been in. His fingers twitched as his own magic sensed hers crackling around them like a barely held back storm. Looking around, he shifted from one foot to the next and swallowed with difficulty. On some deep level he knew he was in danger and the most primitive parts of his brain were telling him to run! Run or die. He looked back at her and wished he hadn't. It seemed as if nothing of what he knew Hermione to be was left. The woman opposite him was a complete stranger. A stranger perched precariously on the edge of terrible, savage violence.

"Soften up a little? Oh you poor, stupid fool. When you get soft, you die!" Her voice was different, deeper and it seemed to reverberate in his very bones. If that wasn't terrifiying enough, fire erupted in her hands. Shocked he took a step back and fell to the ground. This should be impossible! She wasn't using a wand! No incantation. He knew wandless magic was a thing, but not this.

"I swore I would never be helpless again. I call and it answers." She lifted her hands, bearing down on him. With wide-blown eyes, his mouth hanging open he crab walked backwards as quickly as he could. His breathing was chopped and when he saw her fire reflected in her eyes, whimpers escaped him. She stood over him, the fire having moved up her arms but not burning her. It was impossible! This wasn't real! Someone had put something in his coffee!

"It took me years to master it. You think that death and torture can be forgotten and ignored by a few laughs? How ignorant can you be!" She spat. Her voice had gotten even deeper and it seemed to echo in his head. "You're a child playing at being a man. Touch me in the wrong moment, say the wrong words and this is what you will have to deal with. Can you?" She opened her hands and suddenly the flames covered her entire body and her eyes had turned a complete pitch black. Her head turned slightly to one side not unlike a curious reptile spying a tasty new morsel it hadn't seen before. Gibbering and crying he pressed himself against the wall behind him. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He was frozen. Inside he was screaming at himself to run, to flee. Warmth snaked along his thighs, but he didn't notice. Frozen in terror he only stared at the demon in front of him. A powerful gust of wind blew her hair across her face. She stared at him and he was convinced he was going to die. She took a step back though. Little by little the wind, the fire, it all vanished. Until in the end Hermione as he knew her remained in the courtyard. She looked tired, sad and her eyes seemed much older than they should be.

"No, you can't." She whispered, her voice having returned to normal as well. Shaking her head, she sighed. "I am sorry, Peter. I'll find my own way home." She took the spells off and walked towards the street. She needed a bath. A warm glass of milk and all the trashy romance novels in her secret stash. Letting it out was easy. Getting it back in was harder.

Behind her in the alley, Peter remained glued to the wall, staring at the alley she'd left by. For minutes he was convinced that it was a trick. That it would come back and kill him. A pidgeon cooed and he screamed. It seemed as if this opened the flood gates. Heaving sobs broke free and all the terror flowed from him. Later he would be happy no one saw him, since he completely lost it. All. The new clothes were ruined utterly.

 **AN:** We had a glimpse of Draco's beast. Well...say hello to Hermione's. :) Explanations on how she's able to do it will be forthcoming, don't you worry. Again, let me know what you think. I always want to get better. ;) Have a great one!


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Draco supervised his team training with the dummies. He was happy that they had them, since he didn't exactly feel up to performing today himself. He was an excellent actor and none of the students would have guessed that their professor suffered from a massive hangover and sleep deprivation. Walking along the carpets, he noted the stances of his pupils and looked over to the others, making sure they were all watching. He was heartened to see that the support members were the most intense and concentrated. Whatever Hermione had said to them, it had worked like a charm. Whenever a duelling team was formed, no one wanted to be the support, since everyone assumed that the position was a glorified assistant. It was much more than that and he was happy that she had been able to get it across to them. But then he shouldn't have worried. Of course she would have been successful. Whatever she set her mind to, she succeeded at. Crossing his arms, he took a few steps back and watched the team. He didn't want them to see the sad smile on his face. It had nothing to do with them, but much more about the loss of trust and possibly friendship his episode had elicited. He still had to seek out Jane and apologise to her. He hadn't wanted to swamp her and he knew she would be in the Lounge later, working on her paper. The setting would calm her. He doubted she would want to be alone with him.

"Jamal! Elbow up. Left leg should be forward." He called out. Jamal performed the same spell and he nodded when his protégé looked back to him. "Better." He nodded with a smile. He took the rest of them in. They all had made great progress and they would need it soon. He'd heard back from the committee and the roster had been accepted and approved. Salem University was in the East Coast Circuit running. Currently in last place, as they were the newcomer. The old coach's failures had led to the team being dismissed from the Circuit. The only competitions they'd had were 'friendly' matches against other teams, which those had used as training excercises. Draco had stretched out feelers, wanting to set up an exercise match for his own team, but none of the established teams had accepted. He couldn't fault them. Word had it that one of the duellists had been ambushed after a match and beaten badly. No proof had been found, but everyone knew that the old Salem team had done it as retaliation since they'd lost. Another reason why he'd invested in the dummies.

Sighing he moved forward, when Jeremy was once more flexing for the benefit of the ladies. That boy needed a swift kick in the arse.

"Is this a fashion show?" He asked sternly and stopped next to Jeremy's podium. Swallowing Jeremy looked down at his professor.

"No, sir?" He answered, while his team mates tried to hide their amused smiles.

"Then why are you posing like a bleeding model? We are duelling here! Not showing off!" Draco reminded him. Before Jeremy could respond, the dummy's spell shot him off the platform. Groaning Draco rubbed his face. Thank Merlin all had agreed Jeremy should be second. With any luck, he wouldn't have to compete. All had not wanted him on the carpet at all, but he wasn't good enough in tactics, potions or spells to be counted as support.

"James? Would you please check on Jeremy and sit him down on the bleachers?" Draco asked. James nodded and walked over to their groaning, fallen comrade. Not asking anything, James gripped Jeremy's belt with his left hand and heaved the other boy onto his shoulder.

"I can walk!" Jeremy protested loudly. Embarassed he'd been manhandled like that in front of the girls. James shrugged and let him go. Stumbling Jeremy glared at James. As always, James simply stared back. Grumbling and huffing, Jeremy sat down on the bleachers. Draco chuckled and turned to the rest.

"What do you do when I talk to you and you are on the carpet with a dummy?" He asked them all.

"We raise our arms to deactivate it." They all responded. Lifting an eyebrow Draco turned to Jeremy, who was blushing furiously by now.

"Sorry, sir." He apologised again. Nodding Draco waved for Lorelei to take Jeremy's place. He knew she didn't like traditional duelling, but he wanted all his team to be proficient in both modes. Freestyle allowed for a lot of improvisation and if that didn't help, you could always duck and run. Traditional duelling didn't allow for that. The carpet was your entire arena. The length and width a tiny fraction of a freestyle arena, making it necessary to know your spells and charms very well and thinking quickly and strategically. No one could pick up the slack here, like your partner could in freestyle. It all came down to you, your wand and your wits. His students would have seconds and support to assist them, but bit by bit he hoped to be able to get them to a level where that wouldn't be necessary anymore. Not all of them were cut out for it or would make it, but he had high hopes for some of them.

Putting them through their paces one by one, he finally called the class to an end. Already the support members clustered together on their way out, discussing spells and strategy. Some of their duellists were with them. Good. On their way out, he could hear them greeting Blaise. Closing his eyes, he let the dummy he'd been levitating to the alcoves he'd added for them sink to the ground. After Theo had talked to him and they'd studied the sky for a bit, he'd felt calm enough to face his friend. But as he'd come down the stairs, Blaise had already been gone. Turning to his oldest friend, he was prepared to apologise. Before when things like this happened, his friend would be as chipper as always and telling him not to take it too hard. This time not so, it seemed. Blaise's face was as dark as a thundercloud as he closed in on Draco. The doors to the gym clapped shut as the last student left and it seemed to be like a starting pistol for Blaise. Screaming he bridged the distance between them and landed a square punch right to Draco's jaw. Surprised Draco stumbled back, holding his chin. Blood dribbled onto his lips when he moved his jaw to see if anything hurt. And dear Circe, it did hurt. Blaise's muscles weren't all for show. He packed quite a punch.

"She left me! She left me because I protected your fucking secrets you prick!" Blaise screamed and swung at him again. Draco lifted his arm, but he was too late. Great. Now both sides of his face hurt like a bitch. Stumbling back, he raised his arms.

"Blaise, wait." He asked. Snorting, Blaise shook his head, his hands balled into fists and shaking in rage.

"For what? For some clever remark from you? Some explanation that will convince me I didn't just loose the best thing that's happened to me in a long while? Oh, I am just **dying** to hear that one!" He pressed out between gritted teeth. Sighing and hanging his head, Draco let his hand go limp and his wand fall to the floor.

"You're right. I have no...excuse, no explanation that would make what happened right. You have every right to be angry." Opening his arms wide, he stepped back up to his friend. Squinting in suspicion, Blaise took him in carefully.

"What are you playing at? I'm not a moron." He spat. Draco shook his head, a sad smile on his face and blood tracking a path from the left corner of his mouth to his chin.

"No tricks. No ploys. No traps. If you want to hit me, then go ahead. I deserve it." He said. Blaise grabbed him by the front of his duelling vest, pulling him close and raising his fist. Draco didn't look away or try to defend himself. He could see Blaise's jaw working hard. Gnashing his teeth, while he bristled with anger.

"Fight back!" Blaise shouted. Draco shook his head.

"No. You're my friend." He simply said. Blaise's shaking intensified.

"Fight me!" He roared. Again, Draco shook his head.

"No." He breathed, closing his eyes. He'd done this. Brought one of the few remaining true friends he had such pain. When would he stop ruining the lives of those close to him? Opening his eyes again, he pleaded with them for forgiveness. That moment seemed to stretch, until with a primal scream, Blaise shoved him away. Draco watched his friend stalk up and down the gym, running his hands through his hair and gripping the strands. Lungs working like bellows, Blaise was so infuriated. He'd spent all last night thinking about not only what had happened last night, but the last few years. And Jane was right. They had been enabling Draco. Letting him get away with shit because of his past. No more!

"I'll see her later today and apologise. I will do my best to explain and..." Draco tried, but Blaise closed the distance between them in a few long strides and pointed a finger directly into his face.

"You stay the fuck away from her!" He growled. Draco's face fell.

"I'd never hurt her." He whispered. Blaise snorted.

"And how would you know? A wrong word, a wrong touch and you would go off on your own mother! I'm done, Draco. No more of that coddling crap. Get. Help! Now! And don't you dare talk to Jane, or Hermione for that matter, before you do." Blaise held Draco's eye with a dark stare for a moment, making sure his point had been made, before he turned and left without another word. On shaking legs Draco slowly made his way to the bleachers and sat down. Staring at the opposite wall across from him, he sat quietly, his hands shaking on his knees. Silence. Alone. Again. Maybe it was best this way. He tended to hurt those close to him. Whether intentionally or not. But the thought of not talking to Hermione again...he balled his hands into fists, gasping for breath as he desperately fought the urge down to go after Blaise and punish him for daring to keep Hermione from him. He had to win this fight. He had learned punishment from the very best. And the cruelest. Deadliest. As a result, his punishments were sadistic, harsh and deadly. He wouldn't though. He refused to even entertain the idea of hurting his friend. Blaise had stood by him through it all.  
Breathing heavily he slumped in his seat, as he felt the darkness in him recede. The cold voice in his head grew silent and colour returned to the world. Rubbing his hand over his face, he waved his right hand and summoned his wand. He had some thinking to do.

xXx

Hermione hadn't returned to her apartment. She didn't feel like being alone and instead had made her way back to the campus. She was sure that despite the late night and harried morning, Jane would be in the Lounge continuing her research. They could talk about her work and as an added bonus, it would distract Hermione from what she'd done. Peter wouldn't listen, so she had done the only thing she could. She'd shown him. She doubted he'd be back. None of them did. Only Harry and Ginny. Well, and Luna. That woman knew no fear. Hermione had been in full flaming bitch mode, quite literally and Luna had patted her on the shoulder, complimented Hermione on her new sweater and asked where she'd stored the cookies that had been so delicious. It had snuffed out the anger and rage Hermione had been feeling at that time, since it was such an out of left field comment and reaction. Trust Luna to take it all in stride.

Opening the door to the Lounge, she greeted her colleagues and made her way over to the tables near the bookshelves connected to the library. As she'd suspected Jane was in her usual spot a book open in front of her and a notebook next to it. Smiling Hermione traversed the distance between them and pulled up a chair.

"Right back to your research, I see." Hermione commented and sat down. Jane looked up, her pen between her lips. As she smiled, the pen fell down.

"Hey there. Got to your class on time?" She asked. Hermione nodded with a sigh and gathered her hair to put the unruly curls back into a braid.

"It was a bit tight, but I managed. You?"

Jane closed her notebook and returned the other book to the shelf next to her.

"Just about. I decided that we would watch a movie today." She winked mischievously and Hermione had to laugh. Already Hermione felt some of the tension leave her.

"I opted for the class brewing a pepper-up potion." She said. Jane raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Seems we both decided to have a slow day today." She commented. "I thought you'd left for the day. I saw you leaving with Peter earlier."

Sighing again and closing her eyes, Hermione rubbed her face and groaned. She would rather not think of Peter right now. Opening her eyes, she saw that Jane was pulling a face.

"Another 'date'? Where did he take you this time? A sports bar?" Jane asked. Hermione shook her head, collapsing into her chair.

"No. We went to Red's and it was a very nice establishment, but he refused to take the hints I gave him that I wasn't interested. I made my position clear." She simply stated. Jane nodded, her eyes hardening slightly.

"Good on you. He seems to suffer from a selective hearing disorder. Whenever he hears something he doesn't like, he ignores it." Her tone was acerbic and old pain seemed to reverberate in it. Frowning Hermione sat up, concerned for her friend.

"You had a relationship with him." Hermione stated. Jane snorted, leaned back and shook her head.

"When it suited him we did. In between not so much. He can be charming, funny and loving, but his attention span is negligible and he is a tad self-involved. His emotional depth leaves a lot to be desired. When he deemed our relationship to be over, he told me over coffee in a nonchalant tone, as if he was simply saying he didn't want to go to the movies. Apparently I had taken the whole thing more seriously than him. I quickly got over it though. Over him. Looking back on it now, I am amazed I didn't end it sooner."

Confused Hermione took her in.

"Why didn't you tell me when we met at Draco's?" She asked. Thinking back on that day, Hermione had believed that they'd hit it off well. Jane shrugged.

"I believe that people should make their own choices. Besides, you don't strike me as a person who needs protection from the big bad world. And your instincts had already sussed him out. I could tell it wouldn't really go beyond that awful first date." She chuckled. Every time she saw the word nachos anywhere, she still had to laugh. Hermione grinned, mollified.

"Thank you. I appreciate your trust in me. Almost all my friends tend to coddle me a bit. Especially when it comes to men."

Jane waved that off.

"Psh, please! Anyone pissing you off or touching you wrong has my pity." She thought that over for a second. "Actually they don't. If you nail them to the wall, they deserve it." She winked and Hermione had to laugh. Leaning closer to Hermione, Jane decided to change the topic.

"As we are on the topic of underserving men; can you believe my friend Henry is still rooting for team Braime?" She asked with wide eyes. Hermione's eyes widened as well.

"What? But Tormund is so much better for her! And he is so cute when he sees her." Hermione protested.

"Tell me about it. He will not be budged. I tried to tell him that Tormund is better because he sees Brienne for the awesome, strong warrior she is, while Jaime only sees a fallback option, but he clings to it. All because of that stupid bath scene and those two sentences at Joffrey's wedding. Bullshit if you ask me." Jane fumed. Tilting her head slightly, Hermione pondered it.

"Maybe Brienne was infatuated with Jaime once. You know, he was, at least on the surface, the galant knight and the ideal, but I completely agree with you. Whenever Cersei pushes him away, he sees Brienne as a safe back-up. He doesn't consider her beautiful like Tormund does. He may respect her prowess as a swordfighter and knight in general, but I don't believe he's truly able of loving anyone but his sister, no matter how wrong that sounds." Both women shuddered. Jane stood and collected her things.

"Wanna grab some Chinese take-out and watch reruns? I swear I am going to storm HBO headquaters if Tormund died off screen. And I'll have to wait an entire year to find out!"

Smiling Hermione got to her feet.

"While it sounds good, I'll head home. Got a bit of sleep to catch up on."

"Another time then." Jane offered. Hermione nodded, gave her a hug and both made ready to leave. Just a few steps down the hall, they were met by Blaise. He stopped when he saw them and swallowed, his eyes glued to Jane. Softly Hermione touched Jane's arm and gave her an encouraging nod. Leaving, she gave Blaise a kind smile. She really hoped those two worked it out. They were good for each other.

xXx

Blaise watched Granger leave out of the corner of his eye. Her little smile gave him hope. If Jane was still angry with him, he was sure she wouldn't have done that. Loyalty to the global sisterhood and all that. Blowing out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding, he closed the distance to Jane. She looked as tired as he felt, but it didn't take away from her beauty. And the pen behind her ear had him smile softly. He loved her little quirks. Yes, loved. After a lot of soul-searching last night, he had admitted to himself that he'd fallen in love with the radiant Jane O'Brian. And while his mother had always warned him and told him to run in the other direction of love, he felt that he couldn't. And more importantly didn't want to. It felt awful right now, since she had left him last night and refused to talk to him all day. But before that, he'd felt as if he was ten feet tall and could move mountains.

Staying in his spot, he left the decision up to her. He wanted her to make the conscious decision to work through their problems. When she closed the distance between them instead of turning around and taking another route out, his breath hitched. He hadn't even noticed that he'd barely been breathing.

"Hey." He rasped, his gaze never leaving her face. Tired, but a with a small smile, she reached out for his hand.

"Hey. Come on. We have some things to discuss."

Closing his hand around hers, he answered her smile with a hopeful one of his own.

"Sure. Your place or mine?"

"Mine. I don't want your mother barging in on us like you keep promising she will do one day." Both chuckled at the lame attempt at a joke. Blaise sniffed and blinked rapidly, his back and shoulders straighter. Hope stirred in his chest. Maybe he could salvage this. He would still not tell her what Draco had told him in confidence, but he would tell her anything else. If needed he would lay himself completely bare to keep Jane and what was more, the thought didn't terrify him. He knew that his trust and his heart were well-placed and safe in Jane's hands.

xXx

Dr Adele Miller closed up her office and engaged the security system. Her secretary had left an hour earlier, while she had still been compiling her notes on her last patient. She was joined in the lift by other doctors and research assistants from the other floors of the building. All of them looking forward to a quiet evening after a hard day of work. While the others headed straight for the doors leading to the street, greeting the security guard in passing, she stepped up to him.

"Good evening, Charles. Has the courier come by?" She had requested more materials from a colleague and he had sent it over, but no one had come to the office and the security desk didn't let strangers up the elevators after a certain hour. The middle-aged man behind the desk retrieved a sealed envelope and a clip board.

"Came in about twenty minutes ago. Please sign here, Dr Miller."

Smiling in thanks she nodded and signed for the envelope.

"Thank you, Charles. Have a nice night." She waved and stowed the envelope in her laptop bag and made her way to the stairwell. Her car was parked in the building's garage. While most of her colleagues seemed to live within Salem proper, she lived in a suburb about half an hour car's ride away. When her children had moved out, she'd discussed selling the house and moving with her husband, but both decided that the commutes weren't that bad and the house had become theirs over the years.  
Pushing open the heavy steel door when she reached the lower floor reserved for tenants of the building, her nose was assaulted with the stale, steely smell of the garage with a whiff of gasoline mixed in. Her heels were loud on the slick concrete and the only other sound was the slight electric whirring of the overhead lights. She knew it was silly, but she always felt uncomfortable when traversing an underground garage at night and alone. When the squeal of car wheels startled her, she shook her head at herself and chuckled. Her husband tended to make fun of her about this. Good he wasn't here, she thought with a loving smile. As she passed under another light, it started to flicker. Not that unusual, but what had her concerned and fear inching up her body was the fact that the others started to flicker as well. Breathing faster, her gaze swept the rows of cars while she sped up and fumbled for her keys in her bag. As her car came into view, she felt a bit of relief. This was silly. There was simply an electric fault somewhere. Or a power surge. She needed to stop watching bad horror movies. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone walking towards her. Turning quickly, she couldn't see anyone. Her throat was dry and her breathing ragged, she pulled out her car fob and opened the car, though she was still a good distance away. Screw it! She could berate herself for her panicking later. Right now it was all about reaching her car asap and getting out of here. When she touched the door, she permitted herself a breath of relief. That relief fled as the garage was suddenly steeped in darkness. Looking up, she swallowed with difficulty and fumbled with her trembling hand to open her car door. The lights inside would come on and she could get out of here. She would give the janitor a stern talking-to tomorrow. This was unacceptable. She payed an arm and a leg for her office space and she expected that the building and electrics to be in working order.  
Suddenly the lights came back on and she looked around to make sure that the stranger she thought she'd seen wasn't suddenly next to her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she opened her car door. That is when she heard the footfall behind her. Immediately her heart was going a mile a minute. With wide-blown eyes she turned.

"Good evening, Dr Miller." A deep male voice greeted her. "Does your offer still stand?" The stranger asked and stepped closer to her. She relaxed when she recognised him. Sighing she took him in. She wouldn't tear the janitor a new one after all. Now she knew why the lights had gone crazy. Judging from the bone deep tiredness in his eyes and sombre expression, it was his fault.

"Good evening, Mr Malfoy. Indeed it does."

 **AN:** Here we go again. :) Thanks for all the reviews and I am happy that you all seemed to like badass Hermione. She will make a return. ;) Have a great one!


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Emilio and Jamal made their way over campus, discussing the latest training sessions. While Emilio was comfortable in his position as freestyle duellist, Jamal felt a little afloat. Traditional duelling was a far cry from what he'd been doing all his life.

"It's so weird. I've had to look up all the stances again. The textbooks Professor Granger provided didn't help much. I asked Francis and he had his mother send one of his childhood books over. And will you believe it? It is much better." Jamal exclaimed chuckling. Emilio grinned, hitching his backpack higher.

"I can believe it. I've had my mother send some of my old books over too." He winked. It had helped in getting the basics back. Especially since the books contained pictures, which was invaluable to him when studying for applied potions. He was more of a visual learner and was doing better when he could see things for himself, not just reading about them. James was different in that he needed to hear things. But once he heard something, he almost never forgot. Jamal on the other hand again, learned best by reading. They often worked together to study and playing off each others' strengths. James could often repeat verbatim what he had heard in class, while Jamal could point out what fact could be found in what book and on which page or chapter. Emilio could describe things well. Once he saw how something reacted with something else, he could explain in detail what had happened. He might not understand the exact why and how, but he could tell you what happened. Which made watching movies with him a pain. If he'd seen it once before, he never truly forgot. Not even the small details.  
This skill had helped him immensely in the traditional classes, as he had observed Professor Malfoy keenly when he demonstrated. Out of all of them, except maybe two or three others, Emilio was the only one who already could emulate the stances as they were required. On weekends he helped Jamal train. Gunter often tagged along, since he believed that while they were in the duelling gym, they might as well train freestyle. Sometimes Jamal got in on that too. Just to relax from the straightforwardness of traditional duelling.

Further discussions concerning their childhood books was cut short, when a very properly dressed and poised woman approached them. Emilio smiled and stopped. Frowning Jamal looked from one to the other but stopped as well.

"Emilio. Might I have a moment?" She asked, her hands clasped primly in front of her. Nodding, Emilio took a step closer and threw Jamal a glance.

"See you later." He murmured. Confused and intrigued, Jamal nodded but went on his way. Indicating with his hand, Emilio offered her to go first. Smiling minimally and blushing a bit, she lowered her head and started walking. He closed the distance between them, walking next to her. For some time they were just walking along. He knew where she was leading him.

"You were right." She said in a low voice. He didn't look over, simply nodded. She looked furtively around, he did as well, making sure no one was watching them. Together they slipped around a corner and he opened the maintenance door to one of the access tunnels. She slipped in first and he was right behind her. Before closing the door, he made sure that none had seen them. As soon as the door snapped shut, he turned to her and she rushed into his arms. Holding her tight, he tried to comfort her. She was breathing heavily, clutching him so hard.

"Shh. It's ok." He tried. Taking a step back, she shook her head.

"No, Emilio, it's not. I didn't want to believe it. What you said about Stuart and...and my family...I knew that they planned my life for me, but not this." She whispered in a broken voice. Clearing his throat, he set down his backpack.

"I am sorry it turned out that way."

Snorting she turned away from him and started to pace.

"Sorry. Yeah, I heard that word so many times in the last few days. I'm sick of it. Everyone is sorry." Her tone was bitter and her voice wavered. "Because my father decided to gamble away all our money I am being sold to the highest bidder. Sure. Saying sorry makes it all better that I am being treated like livestock!" She exploded and angry tears rolled down her face. Shocked he stopped her pacing by holding her by the shoulders.

"What do you mean all your money? You had your own fund, didn't you?" He asked. Sniffing, she looked up at him and gave a sad, sarcastic smile.

"Yes, had. I don't know how, but it's gone. My trust fund, my inheritance from my grandmother, everything."

Softly he stroked her face, gently removing the tears.

"We'll figure something out." He promised. Sniffing again she looked up at him.

"What? How? The only way to keep a roof over my family's head appears to be that stupid arrangement my mother made."

Rubbing her arms, he looked around and pulled over two buckets. Dusting them off, he offered her to sit.

"Remember when we first met? I was screaming at the sky and you had the biggest eyes when I finally noticed you were there. And you'd been crying. And still you asked me what was wrong. You gave me advice and the strength to carry on. All I could do in the intervening time was to listen to you. Now let me return the favour. I know what it is like to have nothing. To struggle each day. To get past due notices and worry how to make enough money to get through the month. I know ways to get more money and how to get help and where."

She had taken a seat while he talked and he lowered himself next to her. Hesitantly she took his hand. He squeezed it.

"I don't even know where to begin." She whispered. Nodding, he leaned forward, considering her dilemma.

"First things first, has the tuition been paid?" He looked to her and she nodded.

"Good. Living arrangements are sorted since you're living in the Demeter sorority house. As their leader it should be fine for now. Today or tomorrow make an appointment with the admissions office and look into getting a scholarship. Any scholarship. It might not be a full one, but you can always find a job to make up the rest." He studied her and she seemed to be breathing easier. "Break the problem down. For now, concentrate on staying at university. With a degree you have a much better chance at a well-paying job."

"That's not what the plan is, apparently. As my parents told me, I am to finish my term, get married to Stuart to then pop put babies and tend to his household. What the fuck?! Are we living in the middle ages now? I joined the Demeter sorority because my mother was a member. I rose to the top, because she told me to. I did all that in the hopes that when I finished my degree, they would leave me alone! That I could finally do what I wanted. I should have known."

For a time, they sat in silence, their hands still clasped together. He sat up, straightening his shoulders and turned to her.

"Then change the plan."

She stared at him with wide eyes. She'd been hoping for a great revelation. That wasn't exactly what she had expected.

"What? How?"

Licking his lips, he moved closer to her.

"The duelling program has full scholarships. Step one. Professor Malfoy is from a very old family. I'm sure he knows ways around this. Then there is Stuart. Your parents, for all their faults, love you. We just need to find the right lever, the right info on him to get rid of him."

"What about my father's debts? Stuart's family bought him out on the condition that I marry him. The company, our house, just about everything belongs to them."

"Just about everything. My mother pawned her wedding and engagement ring to keep a roof over my head and food on the table. If you have jewellery, sell it. If you have paintings, rugs, TVs, what have you, sell it. If you have extra houses or apartments, rent them out. Selling isn't worth it in this market, but renting stuff out gives you a steady income. It's still early in the semester, you have a lot of time."

"Time for what?" She asked, but his plans, his suggestions gave her hope.

"Time to get enough money together to buy your way out. You're not royalty. This isn't about your name or a title, it's about money and prestige. Repay the debts of your father and put forth your own conditions. They can't force you. As you said, it's not the middle ages we're living in." He gave her a smile and she answered it with a small one of her own. Squeezing his hand, she leaned to his shoulder.

"Thanks." She whispered. Shrugging he leaned his head to hers.

"Anytime." He answered.

"I know what Stuart did. To your friend, James." She softly said. Surprised he sat up and looked down. "He came by the sorority house to pick me up for a date. Another concession/agreement made by our parents. He bragged about it. As if it was some great feat." She snorted. "That cowardly idiot. When he took me for a walk, a rat ran by and he screamed like a little girl. Honestly! It was just a rodent."

He couldn't help himself and had to chuckle. She laughed as well and the sombre atmosphere was dispelled a bit.

"Rats? Really? They're a dime a dozen. I had one as a pet once." He was happy to see her smile. He felt guilty for the thought, but he realised that here was a ready source for information on Stuart. Their revenge plans had been cut short due to the lack of information they could find. Since Stuart knew everyone who was on the duelling team, eavesdropping was out. While Sabrina had connetions to just about everyone, she hadn't been able to ferret out any weak points they could exploit. But here his friend sat. And she most likely knew everything about Stuart. Clearing his throat, he turned to her.

"Eliana...I want to ask a favour."

Interested she turned to him.

"Of course. What do you need?" Her open face and trusting eyes made him feel even more like shit.

"It's...I want to make it clear that you don't need to do this. OK? And I'll talk to Professor Malfoy and Zabini about getting you on the team regardless." Both were getting nervous now. Not what he'd intended. "We want to pay Stuart back for what he did. But we have to be smart about it. Learn about our enemy. He knows all of us though and we haven't been very successful." With trepidation he looked up to meet her eyes. She seemed a bit surprised, but there was also a fire in them.

"What do you want to know?" She asked eagerly. "He's a misogynistic bully who deserves everything coming for him. I know I don't have to do this and I know you will still help. I want to help, because you're my friend. The only true friend I've ever had." She held his hand tighter. Sighing he let his head hang.

"Thank you. Only tell me things though that others know about him too. I don't want him to realise where our information is coming from if we get discovered." Concern was shining in his eyes and it warmed her heart. Before Emilio no one had ever been so honest with her or so caring. Her parents loved her on some level, but it was a distant kind of love. Both too obsessed with their station, appearances and jobs. Their friendship had started out in a strange manner, as they'd both been caught in a weak moment, but sticking together since then had only made them stronger individually. And the risk for him was much higher than for her.

"Don't worry about me. Even if he got onto you, he'd never suspect me. I am only a pretty ornament for his arm. He'd never even consider that I wasn't impressed by his trumped up stories and outright lies. Do you have time? This could take a while." She smirked. He chuckled at her sarcastic look, but shook his head with a sigh.

"Sorry, but I have to get back. Still lots of studying to do today. I'll meet you tonight at the gardeners shed." He promised. Both got up and dusted off their backsides.

"No one ever asks you about your runs?" She asked surprised. He shrugged.

"I like to jog. Clears my head. Since Professor Zabini makes the others run all the time, none of them want to tag along. They think I'm just putting a bit of extra training in."

She chuckled and pushed him in the chest.

"As if you needed extra training."

He winked and leaned a bit down to her.

"I can always improve." He joked and was happy to hear her laugh. Good. She deserved some happiness.

xXx

Blaise was finishing his personal training by putting the dummy he'd used back into its alcove when he heard the door opening. Sighing he closed his eyes. He hadn't talked to Draco since their argument two weeks ago. It seemed as if he'd decided the grace period was over. And if Blaise was honest with himself, he was glad Draco was making this first step. He had been trying to find a way to talk to him, but as more and more time passed, he was more and more uncertain of how to approach his old friend. After all, he'd given him an ultimatum. He didn't regret that decision. It had to be done and since his mother wasn't here, it fell to him as the one person who knew him the longest and best to push for the change.

"Blaise?" Surprised he turned around at the unexpected feminine voice. Hermione stood just inside the gym, her hands folded in front of her. Smiling he closed the distance between them.

"Hey there, Granger. What's up?" He asked. She seemed nervous, judging by how hard she was wringing her hands.

"I wanted to ask something personal." She begand. Interested he inclined his head and indicated the bleachers for them to take a seat.

"Sure thing. What can I do for the woman with the magic touch that saved my relationship?" He asked only half in jest. He had no idea what Hermione had said to Jane, but it had worked wonders. Their talk had been quiet, serious and deep. Not the screaming match he'd been expecting. While Jane maintained her position that Draco had been way out of line and their reactions to his actions not appropriate, she had also conceded that there might be factors to the equation she wasn't privy to and which might to some extent excuse Draco's aggression. Blaise had never put too much stock in the whole 'brightest with of our age' thing when it came to Hermione, but he was a stern believer now. That woman could work miracles if she wanted to.  
His comment had elicited a small smile from her and while she shook her head, she softly shoved his shoulder.

"No magic touch needed. Just a reality check." She explained cryptically. At least to him.

"All right. No magic then. What did you need?" He gave her his undivided attention. Nibbling on her lip, she finally met his eyes.

"Did I say something wrong to Draco? Or maybe do something? Ever since that night, he's hardly talked to me. I think he would avoid me completely if it wasn't for the meetings once a week."

He swallowed when he saw the concern and hurt in her eyes. Damn. That hadn't been his intent when he'd told Draco to stay away from Hermione and Jane. He'd only wanted to protect them both. Foolish, now that he thought more clearly about it. At least when it came to Hermione. She could most likely kick Draco's arse when needed. But he hadn't wanted to risk it. When Draco lost it completely, they all ran. His parents included. And for all his faults, Lucius was a tough bastard, always with a trick up his sleeve. The meek Narcissa Malfoy could turn at the bat of an eye into a viciously fast viper of a duellist. Never going for the obvious strike, but letting you believe you had the upper hand to then strike a devastating blow. It had served her well while Death Eaters had invaded her home. All of them soon knew that when she was giving her sweetest smile, terrible things would follow. And Salazar help you if you touched her son. Bellatrix had found that out the hard way apparently. She'd commanded Narcissa to be her sparring partner, a few days after having meeted out her malicious and sadistic punishment to Narcissa's only son. One could only make the assumption from that alone that Bellatrix was insane. And Narcissa had swiped the floor with her older sister. Quite literally. Most disconcerting about that story however was that when Lucius had recounted it to him over his twentieth tumbler of firewhiskey, had been the dreamy, aroused look in his eye, as he remembered his wife at her worst. Seemed as if Lucius liked it when his wife let loose.

No; thinking back on it now, it had been the right thing to do, Blaise decided. Hermione might not thank him for it, independent as she was, but she didn't know what Draco was capable of. Sighing he hung his head and decided to come clean.

"I told him to stay away from you and Jane and get some help." He simply said. Her eyes were wide at this.

"You did what?!" There were quite a few emotions packed in only those three words. Anger, astonishment, hurt, even a bit of gratitude. While Hermione thought it sweet he gave both her and Jane such consideration and wanted to protect them, her feminist, independent side rebelled. Not to mention that forcing someone to seek help, be it medical or otherwise, often didn't turn out well. A person had to realise themselves they needed that help to fully accept it and make it work. She rose and paced back and forth. After a few turns, she turned to him, pointing her finger right in his face and her eyes glittering with anger.

"You had no right!" She burst out. Drawing himself up, he squared his shoulders.

"I had every right. Did he grab your neck? No. He grabbed mine. And he squeezed Hermione. If we'd been alone, he wouldn't have let go. He is my best friend, but choking me out is where I draw the line. And he was in the same room with the woman I love. Suppose Jane had pulled the two of you apart? What then? Hm? He needed a kick in the arse." He was breathing heavily now. Just thinking about Jane getting hurt squeezed his lungs tight. Hermione threw her hands up.

"Have you ever been to therapy, Blaise? I have! My entire adult life! Forcing someone to go is **not** the way to go about this. He'd had a taste with me and it almost broke him. You saw him after. Therapy isn't hugging shit out, but hard, dirty work when it comes to the issues that both he and I have to work through. It's not nice, it's not comforting. It is terrifiying and exhausting. The benefits come slow. You want to quit. You think it's not worth the nightmares, the pain and the self-doubt. You pushed him into a situation he wasn't ready for."

"If it's so terrible, why do you go then?" He asked snarkily. Inside he winced. Falling back on old habits wasn't the way to go here. She had a point. What did he know about therapy?

"Because I'm just like him!" She growled, her shoulders shaking and when he looked into her eyes, he pushed back. "I can go off just like him, Blaise. Why do you think the ministry was hell bent on getting muggle therapists by the hundreds involved in this? Emotional magical outbursts are not restrained to children. Hurt an adult enough and patterns form. Think about it, Blaise. What can a muggle in a rage with a weapon do? He hurts, maybe even kills a few people until his rage or bullets run out. We never run out of ammunition! And my rage doesn't run out quickly. I could decimate half of Salem before I realised that what I was doing was wrong. Because in those moments every loud sound, every movement towards me, my inner demon interprets as a threat. And in those moments I deal with threats in only one way. I end them." Her voice had gotten progressively lower. Swallowing with difficulty Blaise raised his hands slowly in an appeasing gesture. As if he was trying to soothe a wild animal. Closing her eyes, Hermione shuddered, pulling air deep in through her nose.

"I go to therapy because it has helped me control it. Because it made me see that I do not have to be that person, that thing. That to some extent I once again can be the curious, wide-eyed girl I was. Full of wonder at the magical world and not the hardened soldier I became." Her voice had returned to normal and when she opened her eyes, there was only a deep sadness in them. Sighing he reached out to her, his eyes apologetic.

"I am sorry, Hermione. I...I was so angry. Afraid, really. He'd hurt me before without realising, but that time, it was different. Before I could always at least see a glimmer of him in there somewhere. Not this time. It had gotten worse. What was I supposed to do?" He rubbed his face. Breathing deep, she sighed too.

"Wait. Woman with the magic touch, remember?" When he looked up at her in surprise at her statement, she gave him a soft smile.

"While our session together wasn't pleasant, it made him think. He'd had a taste of what real therapy could be and I could tell that he was intrigued. Patience is a virtue, Mr Zabini." She softly admonished. Groaning he shook his head, letting it hang. Looking up at her with a sadly, tilted smile, he saw her in an entirely new light. The Gryffindor lioness had a lot more Slytherin to her than met the eye.

"Yes, Ms Granger." He inclined his head. Rising, he breathed deeply, now more convinced than ever that he needed to talk to Draco. Maybe it wasn't too late to salvage all this. His eye caught the ramp of the freestyle arena. It would certainly be interesting. He'd only ever duelled other Slytherins and the odd Ravenclaw. What would Hermione's style be? Slanting his head in the direction of the arena, he decided to test it out.

"Want to have a go?" He asked, now almost giddy at the thought. She would definitely be a challenge with all that knowledge and experience bumping around in her head. It could be a hindrance though. Too many options could make you hesitate a second too long. Chuckling she patted his shoulder and shook her head.

"No, thank you. Jane would never forgive me for beating her boyfriend to a pulp." She winked and walked past him and out the door.

"Those are fighting words, Granger!" He called after her, smiling. Now he definitely had to fight that woman.

 **AN:** Hey there! Conflicts, intrigue, I love it! Mwahahahaha! Our Slytherins in training have their source, now...mwahahahaha! I feel like a Bond villain. All my evil designs fall into place. Mwahahahaha. :P  
Also, Eliana, the source, is not a continuity error. Her and Sabrina's friend simply have the same name. They are not the same person. ;) It gets important later on.

Hope you are still enjoying and have a great one!


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Draco broodily sat at his desk in Duelling Hall. He missed her. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes would light up in conversation when she realised he'd actually understood what she was talking about and not only pretending to. Her voice...the way she said his name...Groaning he buried his face in his hands. As Blaise had told him weeks ago, he had it bad. She deserved so much better. Someone who wasn't broken. But then...he was working on fixing himself, wasn't he? It gave him a slight niggle of hope. While Dr Miller had offered to refer him to one of her colleagues, he wanted her. He knew her and Hermione trusted her. Good enough for him. And he'd seen how professional she was. Besides, he would never find the courage to seek another therapist out himself. All his courage was sucked up by the tremendous effort it took him not to chicken out of his appointments with Dr Miller. They'd talked a bit that first night and right the next day, he'd scheduled his first few months of appointments, always making sure that they didn't coincide with a day or time Hermione could possibly run into him. He'd made a promise to himself. He wouldn't approach Hermione again until he had a handle on his beast. It was harder than he thought. While she had a calming effect on that base creature roiling under his skin, she excited it as well. Prudence was the better option here.

A knock on his office door had him look up. Emilio stood in the door, looking worried at him. Draco sat up, pulling his shirt straight.

"Is this a bad time, Professor?" Emilio asked hesitantly. Giving a tired smile Draco shook his head and invited his student to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"No, Emilio. What can I do for you?" He asked. Nodding, Emilio entered, closing the door behind him. It seemed the young man was nervous, jugding by how he kept rubbing his palms on his pants. Worried Draco leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk and giving his pupil his full attention.

"I need your help, sir." Emilio finally said after he'd taken a deep breath. He looked directly at his professor's face and Malfoy's face became concerned. The atmosphere in the room had turned earnest.

"Of course. What do you need? Is something wrong?"

"I...A friend of mine is in big trouble, sir." Emilio swallowed again. Eliana had always asked him to keep their conversations and what she'd shared with him secret, but in order to truly help her, he would have to tell his professor some of it.  
"She...her family is in deep debt. Her father gambled away just about everything they had and now they have told her the only way to 'save' the family is by her marrying a man she despises." He looked up. Professor Malfoy's face was dead serious now.

"A harsh predicament. Arranged marriages, to my understanding, are illegal in the United States. Has your friend tried for a legal recourse?"

"The other family holds hers in the palm of their hands. They bought all the debt. On the face of it, nothing they have done is illegal. The arrangement of marriage simply an agreement between families and since nothing has been written in a contract, there is no written proof." Emilio explained frustrated. It would be so much easier if there was a piece of paper he simply had to steal to get Eliana out of this whole mess. Looking to Malfoy for guidance, he noted that his professor had leaned back and seemed to ponder the conundrum.

"It comes down to a verbal agreement then, which makes it easier on one hand, but harder on the other. I assume that your friend is of legal age?" Draco took Emilio in, as the youth nodded. "Good. If she hasn't given her consent, the entire thing is null and void. Promises of that nature, if they are not set down in writing, depend on the affected's consent. Even if her parents made vows on their magic, it will not extend to her. The debt part is a complication. If she has made a promise it gets even more complicated. Without her vow it will become a matter of he said-she said. Difficult to prove your claim in a court of law in such a situation and as a result, such cases as a rule are almost always settled outside of court. Here is where the indebtedness can trap your friend or ruin her family."

Sighing, Emilio nodded. He'd run through the different scenarios himself. If Eliana hadn't given a promise or vow on her magic, she could reject the claim, but then her family would be desitute. A harsh fate for people who had never truly been poor or had to work hard for their livelihood. From what she'd told him of her parents, they would not fare well in the real world. Her father had inherited his position at his firm from his father and her mother had no work experience whatsoever. She'd dabbled in designing jewellery, but that was only a hobby and not something that would be able to support them or the extravagant lifestyle they'd led.

"What did you tell your friend?" Professor Malfoy asked. Rubbing his hands, Emilio sat straighter and met his professor's eyes.

"I told her to sell what she could and if she had any property to rent it out for a steady income. I also told her to go to the admissions office and look into getting any kind of scholarship available for next semester. That may not happen, as the 'wedding' is supposed to happen when this term is over." He balled his fists. Anger surged through him at the thought of kind, sweet Eliana married to a dumb brute like Stuart. She deserved much better.

"A good start. I fear though that she won't be able to get enough money together to buy her own way out." Professor Malfoy warned. Emilio was crestfallen.

"But...but she's got rings and necklaces with fancy stones. Clothes, paintings, the lot." He protested. Sadly Professor Malfoy shook his head.

"I have seen it before, Emilio. Gamblers, especially those from affluent families, are good at maintaining the image of wealth. I fear that the stones and jewellery are paste and fake. If her father holds true to form, then he has pawned and replaced everything of value already to feed his habit. Your friend needs to take everything she owns, personally, and have it valued. She will also have to make sure that any and all properties she owns are truly hers and that none of her family have rights to any of it. If her father has any rights to any of her properties, they are already sold or mortgaged to the hilt."

Silence settled over them and Draco let it settle to make sure that Emilio understood. He felt bad for his pupil's friend. It was unfortunately not uncommon. Many of the old houses had faced similar troubles after the war. The reparations they had to pay coupled with the debts the family heads had accumulated over time, be it by gambling or unwise investments, ruined many of them. Scrambling to desperately hold on to their station and way of life, they bartered off their children with at times callous cruelty. It was a barbaric practice, sadly deeply rooted in tradition. Many pureblood girls accepted their fate for the good of their family and do their duty to their legacy. Scores of unhappy, at times even hateful relationships and marriages had happened only half a year after the war was over. It was a side of the war's fall-out the majority of the wizarding population didn't know about. Pansy, Daphne, Astoria, even Millicent had fallen victim to this one by one. Their husbands often much older than them, but they were wealthy and could bail the rest of their families out. He didn't feel all that bad for Pansy, since that woman had made her own bed by still stoutly sticking by the old ideals. Daphne and Astoria however deserved better and Millicent most of all. She had always been silent at school, rarely saying anything and simply staring most of the time. That combined with her height and robust frame had led many to believe she was a mean, spiteful girl when the exact opposite was true. He'd only found out and come to know her better, because she was one of the few people he enjoyed having a conversation with. They used to study together. She'd had a crush on Greg Goyle and her heart had been so badly broken when she'd learned why and how he'd died. Three months later she'd been engaged to a fifty-three year old Armenian wizard, who barely spoke a word of English. But he was rich and could pay off her parents' debts. Her own dreams of having a little house somewhere in Devon with an herb garden were casually brushed aside by her parents' machinations. He'd tried to stay in contact with her, but his last letter to her was responded not by her, but by her husband. Ordering him not to contact his wife anymore. His concern for her had only increased, but all his investigations had come to nothing. None in the village close to the manor house had seen her in some months and none would speak of the wizard. They all feared him. Which had prompted him to recruit unlikely help. Listy the house elf had been the very first elf he'd ever hired. She had been smart and feisty and by his instructions he'd sent her to Armenia to work her way into the service of the wizard. Last he'd heard from his spy, she was close to the household by now. Her subterfuge for coming to Armenia since the British wizards had gone insane for freeing house elves had endeared her to the house elves serving the wizard and promised that when one of them died, they would present her to their master. Since she was technically bound to Draco through their contract, she would be able to betray that 'master' if it should become necessary. And Draco believed it would be. Millicent wouldn't simply stop communicating completely unless something was horribly wrong.

This, along with his own brush with arranged marriage, made Draco a fervent opponent of the practice. It worked in very rare cases, like with his parents, who had eventually fallen in love. Almost all of the parents of his friends and peers though positively hated each other and cheated happily and often. Something they of course would deny, since it wasn't proper and in line with the image they tried to portray of the superiority of their ways, but he knew. As such, he was appalled finding that the practice was being emulated here. Instead of tradition as the driving factor, it was money. Knowing that the Americans had outlawed arranged marriages almost immediately upon declaring their independence had endeared the country to Draco all the more.

Steeping his fingers, he leaned back in his chair and considered the dilemma Emilio's friend found herself in.

"I can't accept her as part of the team, Emilio. Trials were held and the members chosen. She can apply next semester." He said, but before he could continue, Emilio slammed his hand on the table.

"She doesn't **have** next semester, Professor!" He shouted. Draco stared him down. This was no time for emotional outbreaks. It was time for careful planning. He understood the impulse and Emilio was young, but they would have to be smart about this. Cunning.

"She does. All of what you told your friend to do has merit and she should separate, at least financially, from her family at the earliest opportunity. The rules were made clear at the start of the try-outs and while I sympathise more than you know with your friend, I cannot change them for her. What I can do, is acquire her family's debt."

Shocked Emilio stared at him. His eyes wide, he seemed at a loss for words.

"But she said they owe millions." He whispered. Draco waved it off.

"No doubt an exaggeration of her parents to ensure her cooperation. I have a very clear idea of the wealth of the more prominent families in the US as they were either possible competitors or investors. I assume it's not more than five, maybe six, if that. Not that big a problem."

Emilio was stunned how nonchalant his Professor talked about sums of money he couldn't even truly fathom.

"Not that big a problem?" He was still stunned. Draco noded.

"Yes. I'll acquire the company, then sell it off again, dismantle it or incorporate it into my own. As for her father's debts; I have friends happy to do me favours. Conditions will be attached to my helping them and letting their daughter out of that ridiculous agreement will be the first." Draco was heartened to see Emilio breathing easier.

"Thank you, sir." The boy said. Draco inclined his head.

"Don't thank me yet. I will have conditions for your friend as well." Once again, Emilio was tense and a shimmer of hostility was in his eyes. Draco could understand and didn't hold it against the young man. Emilio's experience with men offering help and tacking conditions on that couldn't be good. Raising his hands in a placating gesture, Draco held Emilio's eyes.

"Don't worry, it is nothing sinister. I wan't her to finish her education. The courses she wants, not those her parents chose. If she needs the duelling scholarship to do that, she will have to try out like everyone else. I can help her, but I cannot show favour. It wouldn't be fair to others who hope for the same opportunity. People from your own neighbourhood." Draco met Emilio's eyes, making sure that the young man understood how serious he was. For a moment, both were silent. Breathing deep, Emilio nodded in the end.

"That is more than fair, Professor. Sorry about earlier."

Again Draco waved it off.

"Think nothing of it, Emilio. You were protecting your friend and standing up for your friends is nothing to be sorry for. Quite the contrary. I find it commendable and am proud of you." He rose and extended his hand. "Get the names of the families involved and the company in question. Make sure that your friend continues acting as if nothing has changed. I may need the element of surprise."

Shaking his professor's hand, Emilio nodded eagerly.

"Of course, Professor. After all, a good duellist is patient and calm, waiting for the perfect moment to strike." He winked. His professor's smirk unsettled him a bit. His face seemed to change into that of a completely different man. A man Emilio never, ever wanted to piss off.

"Indeed." Draco only said. The beast was roiling once more under his skin. It wanted to strike. Dr Miller had said that it needn't be something bad. That if he was able to focus the aggression and energy into non-violent actions, it could become an ally instead of an enemy. And right now, his beast was exactly the kind of ally he needed. It revelled in sly revenge and punishment.

xXx

Peter had been hiding in his offices or at home. Every loud noise had him jumping and pulling his wand. Every shadow could contain the monster he'd seen and for the first time since he'd been five years old, he needed a light to sleep at night. Whenever he saw Hermione he almost ran in the other direction. He didn't care that other teachers made fun of him. They didn't know, they hadn't seen! He had. Oh and she was clever. Hiding her true face behind kind smiles and polite manners. But he knew now. He knew what a monster she truly was. He had tried talking to the dean; warning him. McPherson had only chuckled and seemed confused.

Sitting at his desk, he stared at the notes he'd made and was ruffling his hair. Why was no one listening to him?! Even Catrina didn't believe him! Catrina, who had met Hermione and apparently talked to her at length in order to be able to recommend Red's for their next date. Everyone was in danger as long as that monster walked free. He would have to be smart about this. If she suspected that he was working against her now, she would kill him. He'd seen it in it's eyes when he'd been cowering on the ground. It would have killed him and thought nothing of it. The papers in front of him were covered in plans, which he'd scratched out one by one. None of them seemed right or promising success. The only allies he could count on were the Guard students in her classes, but that only if it would show its true colours. He had no idea how to do that yet though. He would have to do research into her now. Straigthening his shoulders, he breathed deep. He would save them all.

Xxx

Hermione sat at home, going over the essays her students had turned in. Dean McPherson, bless his heart, had offered her an assistant to help with this, but at this time she didn't see anyone who she would feel comfortable giving that position to. Maybe Hubert or Ariana, but not yet. They still had a ways to go and it would be hell choosing between the two.

While the papers were scattered around her, her thoughts were miles away though. She still couldn't quite decide how she felt about Blaise's ultimatum to Draco. And how Draco had acquisced to it. She couldn't deny that Draco's violent reaction to his best friend was disturbing and a bad sign, but on the other hand, it had been a highly stressful day for him and he'd been drunk. Groaning she rubbed her face. She needed to stop this! Agonising over it wouldn't help. Draco was an adult and he could make his own decisions. Making excuses for his actions reminded her of her own problems in the beginning. She had explained episodes away and others had enabled her by blaming it on her experiences and she'd felt entitled to loose it sometimes. After all, she'd bled and been tortured for others. They could give her some leeway in return. When her inner demon had whispered in her ear to discipline her parents because of them not immediately forgiving her, she'd known that this part of her was dangerous and needed to be shackled. Tightly controlled. It had terrified her that a part of her was perfectly prepared to inflict pain on those she loved. Jane and Adele both had assured her that such thoughts were not her, but her survival instinct running rampant. A part of her had been hardened in the hottest of fires. She would always carry that part with her and while it could be scary, it would also protect her. She'd sworn never to be helpless again. And her demon made sure of that.

Sighing she rose and changed into loose pants and a tank top. Bare foot, she padded through her apartment to the studio she'd turned one of the rooms into. Mats covered the floor and in a corner, a punching bag hung by a chain from the ceiling. Only few knew, but as her life returned to semi-normal, she had sought out different self-defence classes, seeking one that would appeal to her. She was by now a fourth level black belt in karate and was proficient in krav maga. Not only had it boosted her confidence and given her a sense of security, it also was highly physically exhausting and the amount of concentration needed to properly fight helped her to clear her head. Something she sorely needed. She hadn't been lying to Blaise. When she fought, she fought to win. Sparring with muggles was at times difficult, but she managed. Sparring with a wizard, especially with magic was something she didn't trust herself to do. She feared that all her instincts would roar back to life and while she'd worked hard to gain control over her demon, she knew it was a tenuous thing at times. Enough stress and it would break free to protect her. Taping her hands and feet, she loosened her muscles, stretched and started on her training routine. The smooth stretch of muscle over bone, wide kicks, tight punches, it was all second nature to her by now. Minutes passed and her body fell into the familiar stances and positions as if on its own. Bit by bit her head cleared. Good.

 **AN:** Sorry for the hiatus. Work, ugh, RL can suck sometimes. :P Hope you are still enjoying and I'll try to get more out to you soon. ;) Have a great one!


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Excited partons were milling about the Dragonquill pub, jostling for good seats and trying to get their drink orders filled. A big screen filled an entire wall at a right angle to the bar. Ever since a way had been discovered to use muggle technology in wizard environs, enterprising witches and wizards with a muggle background had worked on getting TV established among wizarding folk. While it was still early days and the majority still preferred their wireless, the amount of viewers had skyrocketed when sports events received more attention. With the help of magic, the cameras could be right in the middle of it. Public viewing had become a good source of income for a lot of pubs and bars, since most wizards were not keen of having a TV in their homes. An added problem was the close proximity of muggles in most of their lives. The problem was currently being discussed with the American ministry, as the dangers of exposing the wizarding world to muggle scrutiny increased if the wizard program was picked up by a muggle somehow. As such, the broadcasting was heavily controlled and only wizarding pubs and bars could easily get licenses to show programming freely. As such, the crowd inside the pub was a wild mix of people, who normally wouldn't associate with each other or be expected to be in the same place. Finely robed, elder wizards sat in the back, robed and muggle-clothed witches and wizards from all walks of life mingled in between them and the screen. A few entire families had managed to snatch tables.  
The music was turned down and an overhead projector cast the test image of the first american, all wizard broadcasting company on the screen. Eager clapping and catcalling came on, which only increased, when the symbol vanished and showed the beginning graphics of the most popular program currently available. Two middle-aged men came on screen, grinning brightly at the cameras.

"We welcome you to the opening ceremony of the East Coast Duelling Circuit! Tonight we will see the opening rounds for this season. And what an interesting season it is going to be, right Bob?" He turned to his co-host.

"Right you are, Ned. Swarthmore College ended last season on a strong note and their top duellists are all still in the running, having taken the win and making a big splash in the national championship. Brown and Georgetown not far behind though and they are back with new duellists and a new training program." At the mention of some colleges' names, cheers went up in the bar from different groups.

"Just like Vassar and Wesleyan. Will it be enough though? Swarthmore still has a comfortable lead, only being challenged by Hamilton College in the freestyle competition."

"Indeed! What a nail-biter that duel was! Up until the last moment, both teams were neck and neck, evenly matched. Experience won the day though, when Smith and Moralez brought the win home to Swarthmore. Will the national champions be dethroned? Is there anyone with a chance, Bob?"

"Hard to say. The others have reshuffled their teams. If that will work, we shall see, Ned."

"And we have an old-new player back on the Circuit. Salem University is back and they are back with a bang! A female first tier duellist and an all female freestyle team. Will that be their key to success, Bob?" At the mention of Salem, all patrons cheered. It had been a big disappointment for all fans of the sport, when the Salem team lost their place on the Circuit.

"Maybe. You know that I have been wanting to see more female duellists. Gender doesn't make a great duellist, but talent. And it seems as if the new duelling coach of Salem agrees with me. Good man right there!" Eager discussions broke out among the patrons. Many women cheered, raising their glasses, eager to see females shake up the status quo.

"Good man, maybe, Ned or simply practical. After Salem's duelling team's fall from grace, all promising candidates fled for greener pastures. We will have to wait and see if the pool of possibles simply was too small and the women were simply included to fill the roster." The older wizards nodded, while others booed and the one commentator gave his colleague a frown-filled glance.

"That is a bit harsh, Bob. Plenty of women are excellent duellists. But back to Salem's new coach. Draco Malfoy used to be one of the most successful businessmen in Salem. " To the right of the commentator's head, a picture of Draco Malfoy was shown, having many women catcalling and some men as well. "He was then hired by Dean Anthony McPherson and I have to say, phenomenal job there. Kudos to the dean of Salem University. Not only turning the entire institution around, but managing to hire a man like Malfoy is quite an achievement. According to the former duelling champion, James Holbrook, Mr Malfoy is one of the most accomplished duellists in the world, though we haven't had the pleasure of seeing him on the carpet before." At the mention of Holbrook, a round of cheering went through the bar again, since the former champion was from Salem and one of the honoured sons of the city.

"Which makes me a bit wary, Ned. How will he do in a competition? But then he fought in the Second Wizarding War in the UK. Though our reporters have been busy on your behalf, dear viewers, we have only been able to dig up a few details. Mr Malfoy fought for the loosing side and even spent some time in prison. Details were not forthcoming when we questioned locals and compatriots, though it is understandable that they wouldn't want to open old wounds." The entire audience was hooked. None had known this about the newly appointed and highly popular coach of the duelling team.

"He may have a dark past, but let us not forget that this was in his youth. And he surely has done many good things ever since coming to the States. Malfoy Enterprises is one of the biggest employers in Salem, giving an opportunity to all with talent. Let's not forget his highly controversial appointment of Jarvis Grimsby as his successor when he left his firm for his new coaching position. And he only carried over this attitude to the team he has put together." Rumblings of agreement went through the crowd, some even raising their glasses in toast. As it turned out, quite a few of the patrons were employees of Malfoy Enterprises.

"Let us hear it from the horse's mouth, as Tom has Mr Malfoy with him right now." The screen split and a young, bulky man with a microphone touching the device in his ear to hear better, as he was apparently in the middle of the duelling arena, judging from the out of focus background. Next to him and standing a bit taller, was Draco Malfoy impeccably dressed in an old fashioned suit. His jacket reaching his knees with a stiffened collar. His white shirt absolutely crease-free and covered slightly by the intricately embroidered vest in black and red.

"Hello Bob and Ned and all our viewers. I have the great fortune of having caught Mr Malfoy before all the madness starts." Tom turned to his guest, who had been patiently waiting next to him. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy for giving us a few moments of your time."

"You are most welcome." Draco gave a small smile, which had the women in the pub catcalling again.

"Are you nervous that you have come under scrutiny now that the season is about to start and what would you like to say about those who point out that a duelling team is no place for women?" Tom asked eagerly and held the microphone close to his interviewee.

"I am a bit...surprised that people are interested in me. Since I am a private person it does make me a bit nervous. Not necessarily for me. I have made mistakes and I have paid for them. Delving into details would bring pain to people who do not deserve to have to relive parts of their past they'd rather forget.  
"As for having women on my duelling team; it is only natural. To assume a person cannot duel simply because of their gender is a mistake. Some of the greatest duellists I've had the pleasure of duelling with were women. While I haven't yet had the opportunity, Professor Hermione Granger is maybe the most talented freestyle duellist out there."

"As you mention Professor Granger, we have been told that your training strategy is quite different from that of the other teams'."

"Indeed, it is. Duelling on its own is a nice workout, but ultimately rather worthless when applied to the worklpace. With the support of Dean McPherson I was allowed to hire both Professor Granger and Zabini to not only train duellists, but possible Guards. My students will have a firm grasp of strategy, spells, potions and tactics. This rounded approach will allow them to better incorporate what they learn now into their later lives. If that is with the Guard, then all the better." Draco ended on a smile and a group of patrons raised their glasses in salute and called out their support. Some of the others threw them confused glances, until one noted that the young man wore a Salem Guard t-shirt.

"What we have been able to gather was that Professor Granger fought on the other side in the war. Has this been an issue for you?" Tom asked.

"No. Professor Granger met with the Dean, Professor Zabini and I before she ever took the job and we talked. She is a consummate professional when it comes to her work and I was extremely lucky that she was looking for a new challenge. During the start of the semester we had the opportunity to talk some more and we have been able to put our past behind us. I am honoured to call her my colleague." Before he could expand more, a call from someone caught his attention. Turning back to Tom, he offered his hand. "I am very sorry to cut this short, but I fear I am needed." Tom took the offered hand and shook it eagerly.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Malfoy." After Malfoy had left, Tom turned back to face the camera head on.

"Food for thought right there. We will cover more as the event unfolds. Back to you, Bob and Ned." The split ended and the two hosts behind their desk were once more filling the whole screen.

"Food for thought indeed. We will see how this approach does when pitted against the proven methods employed by the other universities. Will the added courses help or hinder?" Bob asked and turned to his co-host.

"We shall see. Though the instructor line-up of Salem promises good things. An experienced traditional duellist in the form of Malfoy, who has the seal of approval of none other than James Holbrook. The former star chaser Blaise Zabini training the fitness and reflexes of the freestyle team and as we just heard from Mr Malfoy himself, Hermione Granger teaching spells and potions is herself a fierce opponent. I, for one, feel very optimistic about Salem coming back to the Circuit and shaking things up." Ned smiled brightly.

"It will make the season interesting if nothing else. Let's hear what Swarthmore's head coach has to say. Over to Julia Rellis, who was able to grab Henry Eldersmith for an interview." Both turned and the screen split again to show a young woman, standing next to a grizzled, elder man, barrel chested and a smug expression on his face.

"Hello Bob and Ned and hello Mr Eldersmith. It is a pleasure and honour to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, my dear." His deep voice burred. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"An old rival is back on the Circuit, Mr Eldersmith. Salem has a new coach and a new team."

"I wouldn't call Salem an old rival. Their performance had been slipping for years and at the end they weren't really competition any more. Whether that has changed, we'll have to wait and see. It may be a good training for my boys." He laughed.

"So no worries then?" Julia asked intently. Henry shook his head.

"Malfoy may have duelled Holbrook, but that is the extent of his duelling history. His first-tier traditional team lists a female main duellist and he has an all female freestyle team. While equal opportunity is fine and dandy in the workplace it has no place in duelling. The necessary instincts are simply not there. Also, Salem's team is brand new. None have Circuit experience. All in all, they are not a threat."

"Turning to the established teams, Hamilton has promised to take the freestyle cup this year. What do you say to that?"

"I say let them try. Our team is strong, experienced and will take the win again." Confidence oozed from Eldersmith and Julia thanked him for his time. Discussions started in the pub about the chances of the various teams in the upcoming season. Swarthmore was a favourite of many, while some stuck up for Salem due to them being the home team.

xXx

Music was blaring around them, broken at times by an announcement made and the wild cheering of the crowd. Nervous they looked to the ceiling as they were still in the catacombs under the seats of the Washington magical games stadium. Jeremy was swallowing repeatedly and was white as a sheet. While the others around him were shaken as well, they still moved away from him. All of them had changed into their duelling uniforms before taking up position in the tunnel to the arena. As the newest team and ranked last in the Circuit, they would exit last. Professor Zabini was moving among them, calming them down and giving words of advice. It was still a little much for some.

"Nerves are good! They make you aware and alert. Get a grip on them though. Don't let the other teams see. Make no mistake. They are just as nervous as you are. They are just probably better at hiding it. Poker face, ladies and gentlemen." Professor Zabini lectured as he passed by. Professor Malfoy stopped in front of them, meeting their gazes. He gave them an encouraging smile, which managed to calm them all a bit. They stood taller and stopped their nervous shuffling.

"Gather round, please." He asked and they clustered around him. His calm bearing and demeanour settled them even more. "When you walk out there, I want you to stand tall. All of you have accomplished much over the last months. I am proud of the team you have become. This is the start of the season. The other teams will try to feel us out, see where our strengths and weaknesses are. Fight fair and fight smart. We might not go home with a win this time, but as long as we're among the first five, I am more than satisfied. Trust in your seconds and support and trust in yourself. Enjoy your time out there. Because Monday Professor Zabini and I will be putting you through your paces again." This elicited a chuckle from the team and the tenseness went out of them. Nodding Draco looked at his students with pride. They wouldn't win the overall contest today, but they would give them a good fight. Holding out his hand, the team was quick to hold out theirs as well, covering his.

"Together." He said, meeting their eyes. Smiling, they stood even straighter.

"Together!" They echoed his word loudly.

"Salem! You're up!" An employee of the stadium with headphones called out. Righting their uniforms and loosening their muscles, the team took up their positions again. Nodding, Draco took his position next to Blaise at the head of the column. Breathing deep, he started walking forward, knowing his students would follow. As practised, they followed him in two columns. One behind him, the other behind Blaise.

"Let's play!" Blaise called out, before they left the tunnel. The moment the bright lights fell on both him and Draco, their faces became perfectly neutral masks. One by one behind them the smiles, uncertainties and excess movements of their students fell away. Hidden behind neutral masks of their own. All of them taking a leaf from James' book.

"Salem University under the leadership of Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy!" The announcer exclaimed enthusiastically and the crowd greeted them with applause. Together they made their way over the open floor, past the other teams giving them glowering glances to the end. Draco was proud that his students' masks didn't slip. They'd practiced over the last few weeks. To nobody's surprise, James outshone them all. Taking a step right and stopping, Blaise and Draco faced the panel of judges, while their team continued to file past, until each end of the rows was equidistant from Draco and Blaise. As one they turned to the judges as well. All of their faces still in their neutral masks. Silently they bowed as a group. Something they had been practising as well. All through this, the applause had died bit by bit. While the other teams had been smiling and waving, calling out to the audience, the Salem team had done nothing of the sort. After their bow they had resumed their rigid stances behind their teachers. The other teams were throwing them glances and started fidgeting. This was new. The other teams always waved or made faces at them. This was...scary.

As the head judge rose to announce the beginning of the circuit, the head coach for the Wesleyan team stepped forward. Confused people threw each other glances. This was highly irregular.

"High judges. I ask that the admission of the Salem duelling team be withdrawn." The coach proclaimed loudly. Immediately whispers started all over. Smugly the elder man turned to the Salem team. Draco and Blaise had turned their heads, their faces still betraying nothing.

"This is irregular, Coach Kirkwood. Such concerns should have been brought before the committee before the opening ceremony." The head judge proclaimed. Bowing, Kirkwood took another step forward.

"This information was brought to me just recently, High judge. But I must bring this forward now. Salem University is not qualified to compete on the Circuit, since their third instructor, Hermione Granger, is not and never was a registered duellist." Smugly he turned to Draco. While Malfoy maintained his cold facade, his eyes promised retribution. Sighing the head judge turned to Draco.

"If this is true, then all duellists entered to compete in the Circuit trained by Hermione Granger cannot compete." His tone was clearly apologetic, since this was not only embarassing for the board who had confirmed the roster, but for the Salem University as well.

"May I approach?" Draco asked, his voice even and clear. It didn't give away the roiling anger clamouring inside him to get out. The judges nodded and Draco stepped forward. "Hermione Granger does not have to be a registered duellist. She is a veteran of the wizarding war and a recipient of the order of Merlin first class. Along with other, high honours. The rulebook is clear that in case the trainer is a vetted fighter, he or she does not have to be a registered duellist. Fighting in a war and winning it is vetting enough." He took them all in. The judges turned to each other and consulted in whispers. The high judge rose again, an apologetic expression once more on his face.

"While the honours given to Hermione Granger for her service and accomplishments are impressive, a demonstration is necessary." He declared. Draco was fuming by now. This was not what had been agreed. The roster had been submitted, along with all their names. Any tests or inquiries should have come right after. Not now. He wanted to protest, but before he could, the clacking of high heels on wood floor was loudly audible in the silent arena. All eyes turned to the left. There she was, in all her glory and absolutely furious. Her hair falling loose for once, streaming behind her as she walked in a brisk pace towards the dais on which the judges sat. Her eyes were gleaming in anger and her body vibrating with aggression. They had made a big mistake in threatening her students.

"What demonstration do you require?" She asked. The judges fidgeted in their seats. Draco could barely hold back a smirk. Being the target of Hermione's anger was never a good idea.

"Duelling, Miss Granger. Would you prefer traditional or freestyle?" The high judge asked.

"Freestyle." Hermione answered and the judges nodded. Nodding as well, she turned to the already set up freestyle arena taking up one half of the stadium floor. She wasn't looking back and simply retrieved her wand, waved it over her smart business outfit and within a shimmer the jacket, blouse and skirt changed to a looser jacket, t-shirt and tight trousers. Her high heels turned into boots with patterned rubber soles. Whispering had started in the ranks of spectators and the coach having called Hermione out didn't seem as smug as he did a minute ago. Clearing his throat, the head judge caught their attention again.

"Who shall be your opponent, Miss Granger?" He asked. "As your skill was put into question, you will be allowed to choose your adversary." With a wave of his hand, he indicated the assembled on the floor. Turning, Hermione let her cool gaze sweep over the coaches, who now all had taken a step forward, including their assistants.

"All of them." She replied clearly. Immediately the entire Washington arena was in an uproar.

 **AN:** I only watch sports programs by accident, so if it felt wrong, please give me a heads-up. ;) Epic smackdown fun about to come. ;) Have a great one!


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Hermione was furious, but kept a tight grip on her temper. She had run into that waste of flesh in the catacombs while making sure the support had all the resources they needed. She wouldn't walk in with the rest of the team, as she preferred staying out of the spotlight. He'd made badly veiled passes at her and upon her continued denials of his 'attentions', he'd crudely implied her to be a lesbian. She had been quick to respond that having him close to her might incline her to indeed seek only the company of women from now on. The other older men, which she now knew to be the other coaches, had laughed at him, while he had blushed in embarassment and indignation. Him calling her out now was his form of revenge no doubt. Idiot fool! A part of her was eagerly champing at the bit though. It was eager, ready and willing to dole out punishment.

Stopping in the middle of the freestyle arena, she took in the ramps, hides and boxes around her. It reminded her of the skate park in her parents' neighbourhood. Without the tags. Stretching, her eyes turned to the astonished faces of the other coaches and the judges. None had moved, except for Blaise and Draco. Meeting their eyes, she gave a small shake of her head. She'd seen Blaise train with Draco and he would be a challenging opponent, but not too much of a problem. He had fast reflexes, but his plays were always spur of the moment decisions. Carefully laid traps not in his arsenal. The one she truly didn't want to fight, at least right now and in front of thousands of witnesses, was Draco. There was something in the way he moved when he duelled that called to the beast snaking under her skin. It would be too great a risk and she didn't trust herself to keep it in check. It would be glorious, stimulating and tremedously dangerous for anyone within a ten mile radius. To her relief they inclined their heads and simply stood to the side, as if in support.

"Miss Granger you surely can't mean all of them at once." The high judge protested with a nervous chuckle. Giving him a cold glance, she rose from her split and turned fully towards him.

"Indeed I do. I never say anything I do not mean. They all question my competence, they all get to test it. Unless they are afraid I'll beat them?" She turned to the now arrayed men, raising a single eyebrow in mock inquiry. Some of them fisted their hands, while some chuckled and rubbed them in anticipation of an easy win and showing this woman her proper place.

"Brown University sees no need to duel Miss Granger, High Judge. As we now have been made aware of her accomplishments, we confirm her as a duellist." A slim, elder man with white sideburns and glasses spoke up. His colleagues sneered at him. His own assistant too.

"Coach Summers..." He whispered to his employer, but only got a slash of the hand to shut up. Coach Summers gave Hermione a bow of respect, which she returned. Twirling her wand expertly through her fingers, she gave a predatory smile to the remaining coaches and assistants, who had started to circle her.

"Oh joy! Then this makes it a wonderfully even number of ten against one." She purred. Adrenaline rushed through her. Every breath seemed more. She could smell the varnish of the wooden floor, the sweet scent of the popcorn being sold in the seats. Every creak of the boards as the men moved around her loud and clear, betraying their position. Her pupils dilated and she grinned. She felt alive!

The judge didn't seem happy about this spectacle, but it had proceeded too far for anything to stop it now. Sighing he made his way down from the dais and to the edge of the arena.

"Challenge given and accepted. Loss of wand or consciousness means defeat. Combatants can also yield to their opponent. At the count of three, you may begin. Any questions?" None of the duellists in the arena answered him. All of them tense and poised, ready to begin the duel.

The entire stadium was silent. No one moved or spoke. It was a moment suspended in time. Across the country, all conversation had ceased in the various bars, who had been doing public viewing of the opening ceremony. Everyone's eyes were glued to their screens and to the high judge's hand, as it slowly descended during his countdown.

"One. Two. Three!" He slashed his hand all the way down and immediately the arena was an explosion of spells. Colourful bolts of magic raced through the air, seeking their target. The moment the judge had started on the word three, one of the coaches had already shot his first spell. Hermione had expected this, moving out of the way. A slight sting to her calf let her know that he hadn't been the only one to bend the rules. Her movement had let her avoid this other spell but not completely. No matter. This was her element. This was nothing compared to the battle of Hogwarts and what was even better, here she woudn't have to reign in anything. All of these fools trapped with her in the arena's magic barrier were free game. They may think her only a woman trapped with superior male duellists. What fools they were. They were trapped with her and it was time for some fun.

Ducking under the next spell, she heard them move behind her. Using the momentum of her duck, she flipped back, avoiding another bolt. By now frustration was obvious on their faces, as it turned out she wasn't as easy a target as they'd assumed. Grinning, she slid to a cover, grabbed the ledge and vaulted over it, closing the distance to her first victim. Wide-eyed he stared at her, as she dodged another of his spells and used the momentum of her turn to land a roundhouse kick to his head. He fell to the ground, out like a light. Grabbing his wand, she moved behind another shelter, which shuddered under the combined onslaught of her remaining nine adversaries. Breathing deep, she could feel her magic boiling around her. It wanted out. Her own wand in her right hand and the other one in her left, she twirled each through her fingers, smiling brightly at the shocked faces of Blaise, the judge and Draco. Though Draco's expression wasn't truly shocked.

"Let's play." Winking at him, she turned on the spot and disapparated. The loud, tell tale crack confused her opponents, just like she wanted, as she appeared over them. She had always wondered why no one had ever taken advantage of the spinning move necessary for apparition. She did. To the detriment of a young man, who caught the full force of her heel to the back of his skull. Groaning he dropped and the others turned to her. Moving her wand in moves perfected on the battlefield, she felled two more, before her opponents rallied themselves and sought shelter or started blocking. Strafing to the left, she continously kept up a barrage of curses and spells to trap four of the remaining six, while closing in on the last two. They saw her coming and fired spells of their own. Raising her left hand with the taken wand, she started to defend, while still moving towards them. Her right hand was twirling her own wand fast through her fingers and it seemed as if she was holding a gattling gun due to the speed and amount of spells she was firing off. Holding the four wizards in check with this assault, she turned her gaze to the two bobbing their heads over their shelter to fire spells at her. Smirking she caught the elder man's eyes as he stopped frozen at her display. They hadn't even switched position in the last few minutes. Sloppy. Hardly worthy prey, but she would have to make do with what she was handed. Twirling, she slashed out both wands, sending fiery tendrils from both of them, lashing the shelters around her. Continously moving the wands, she kept the lashing up, while still stalking towards the two, who were reduced to defending. Slowly increasing her speed, the flaming whips around her became a blur. The four behind her started their attacks again, changing position again and again in an effort to find a gap in her defences and save their compatriots. The bubble of fire around her proved impenetrable though. Taking a running start from one of the ramps, she flipped over the cover landing in a crouch and smashing her right fist into the ground. A shockwave rippled from her, bulging the floor and catapulting the cowering men over their shelter; unconscious. Chuckling she looked up and to the side, catching the gaze of another wizard, who stared at her, mouth gone slack. It had to be a trick of the light, but he swore that there was fire dancing in her eyes.  
Launching herself forward from her crouch, she seemed to fly across the distance between them, catching him off guard. With widened eyes he tried to raise his wand in defence, only to be struck down by her fist, as she turned a foot away from him and the roundhouse hit took him in the temple. Three to go. She had hoped they would prove more of a challenge. Rising, she slowly sauntered across the arena, revelling in the rush of blood through her veins, the slight smell of ozone in the air due to the many spells fired. The tingle down her spine and the smooth glide of her muscles. A part of her missed this. The danger and violence. Kirkwood raised his pudgy face over his cover and she adjusted her course towards him. He blanched at seeing the dark look on her face and the malicious smile gracing her lips. A whine from her left had her lean back slightly, the spell missing her by a hair. Her facial expression or slow progression didn't change. More curses and spells were fired at her. Sinuously she dodged them all, never losing a step in her stride. She even went so far as to close her eyes and breathe in delight. She felt a new kind of attention on her. Not the fearful gibbering of those trapped here with her, but something else. Turning and opening her eyes, she saw Draco barely being restrained by Blaise. Their tense stances didn't give it away, but Blaise's hand on Draco's shoulder was the only thing keeping Draco from entering the arena. Licking her lips, she shuddered in pleasure at his rawly appreciative stare. A slanted smile appeared on his face, his eyes drinking her in, as she almost negligently deflected the pitiful attempts of her opponents. His stare so intent and heated, she could feel it on her skin. Biting her lip to contain a moan, she closed her eyes again, relishing in the rush of arousal coursing through her. Time to end this. When she won, she could see if having his hands on her felt as good as his gaze. She bet they did. Those big, strong hands moulding her flesh, gripping her, moving her for both their pleasure. Panting in excitement, she turned to her enemies. Running, she slid next to the cover behind which one of them was hiding, scissoring her legs to get enough momentum to get back on her feet, using the movement at the same time to knock him out. Economy of the essence now. The fire of her anger had been supplanted by a different fire burning even hotter. Flicking the wand in her left hand, she deflected the uprooted ramp being thrown at her, stalking determinedly to the next obstacle in her way to getting the ride of her life. Desperation made her opponent faster, but she deflected his attempts either by wand or dodging. Taking a running step and using the wall next to them as a push-off point, she gave the idiot a taste of her boot. He fell like all the others. One left. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Draco licking his lips and Blaise having to hold both his shoulders now. Grinning she put a little extra swagger into her step for him, she moved on to the last impediment to her victory. Kirkwood huddled cowering behind a cover, stretching almost half the arena. That wouldn't do. Spreading her arms, the cover ripped in the middle and under screeching wood and metal moved obediantly apart. With a red head, he rose to his feet, squaring off and started firing spells at her. Laughing she continued to advance, brushing his sorry attempts aside with her wand. It wasn't even a challenge. And this worm had doubted her abilities? His defeat should be slow. Again and again she shot stinging hexes at him, driving him back but not incapacitating him. It was too much fun to see him flail in his frustrated anger and embarassment.

"Yield, old man. I might accept." She purred. Grunting he blocked her spells, retreating again. His head as red as a tomato due to the exertion. Puffing, he only shook his head, gritting his teeth and launching another barrage. Grinning she drove him back further. Oh well. It had been his choice after all. She smirked when he stumbled over the lip of a ramp and fell on his arse. This fool had the audacity to think himself her better? He wasn't even aware of his surroundings! The fall had jarred him, his wand loose in his hands. So easy. Too easy.

"Enough, my love. It is beneath you to play with such unworthy prey." His deep voice had her look up. There he was. Right across from them, rubbing up against the barrier separating them. All air rushed from her lungs. God she wanted to rip his clothes off him. Judging by the look he gave her, he wanted to do the same to her. Slashing behind her with her wand, Kirkwood was sent tumbling into the ramp he'd stumbled over and dropped to the floor, unconscious. Letting her left hand go lax, she dropped the wand she'd taken. Breathing heavily, she couldn't take her eyes off him. Biting her lip, she was already considering what to do first. Vividly she remembered their kiss, the bulge she'd wantonly rubbed against in search of long-denied release. His eyes had fastened on her lips. Grinning she licked them for him. His groan music to her ears. It would be glorious, sweaty and passionate. Shuddering she closed her eyes, just imagining it.  
A roar assaulted her ears. Frowning she opened her eyes and blinked. Confused she stumbled back a step. Looking around, she noted the hundreds of people watching her, standing, clapping and calling out her name and that of Salem University. Swallowing, she took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm her racing heart and the rampant desire running through her. Blushing, she bowed to the slack-jawed high judge, avoiding his eyes and quickly made her way over to the tunnels. She needed to get out of here. She needed peace and quiet. What had just happened? She'd duelled people before, but never so controlled. Apart from the end, there had been a perfect meld of her cruel beast and herself. Something she'd never been able to pull off. Either she was herself or she was the beast. Never this devastating meld of the two. The tunnels brought a respite from all the eyes resting on her and the shadows brought with them a slight cold she welcomed. Her cheeks were flushed and not just because she'd just duelled ten men. Oh no. That hadn't truly exhausted her at all. Groaning she stopped and pressed her brow to the cold concrete wall, begging her body to cool down. He hadn't been afraid. Far from it. There had only been appreciation and arousal in his gaze. No, no, no. She couldn't entertain this fantasy. It had just been her fanciful wishes and imagination.  
A hand roughly took her shoulder, turning her around. Alarmed she brought her wand to bear, but before she could summon any spells to mind, Draco's lips on her own blew every thought from her mind. His kiss was hungry and dear God could he kiss! Helpless to his onslaught and not really wanting to fight it, she opened her lips to his, reciprocating. Moaning into her mouth, he closed the scant distance between them, pressing her to the wall, his left hand tenderly tilting her head, while his right posessively grabbed her behind. Groaning she slung her arms about him, her left leg pulling him impossibly closer. The world could end, the stadium crumble, neither would notice. Pulling back, he nibbled on her lower lip.

"I have wanted to do this for months." He rasped, capturing her mouth in another heated kiss. Whimpering in frustrated desire, she rubbed against him. Why was there so much clothing between them? She wanted him naked. For hours she wanted him naked. He seemed to want the same thing, judging from his roaming hands. Her whine of protest when his lips left hers, quickly turned into a moan, as he started to kiss and nibble on her neck. She burrowed her hands in his silky hair, holding his head close. She would rip every pretty hair from his head if he dared to stop.

"Have dinner with me." He whispered in entreaty. The hot air from his exhale in her ear had her shivering, only intensified when he started to nibble and suck on her earlobe. Pulling him back by his hair, they stared at each other. Pupils blown wide, flushed and out of breath.

"Yes." She breathed and lunged forward to kiss him again. Groaning he pushed her again up against the wall, his right hand going down now as well and pulled her up. She slung her legs around him, once more feeling that glorious bulge. Moaning she undulated against him. Growling, the passion of his kiss intensified, his tongue invading her mouth. The rhythm matching his hips grounding against her own. Moaning she matched his rhythm, tangling her tongue with his. They were only making out and she was positively drenched. Never in her life had she been this aroused. Her normally comfortable silk bra actually chafed her tightly furled nipples. She wanted to rip open her blouse and have him soothe them with that excellently talented tongue of his. Better yet if he ripped her shirt. The thought alone had her shudder.

"Death Eaters!" The loud shout had both of them on alert and in battle stance immediately. Breathing heavily, their eyes searched the dim tunnel around them, but the only one there except them was Blaise. Smirking he took them both in.

"Sorry, but I've been trying to get your attention for a bit now. I knew the both of you would react to this." He snickered. Blushing Hermione patted her hair and righted her clothes, while Draco gave his friend a dark stare. Lifting his hands slightly in placation, Blaise sighed.

"Competition isn't over just because Granger pummelled those idiots into the ground. Salem has been vetted and the first round is set to start in a few minutes." He said. Draco nodded and breathed deep.

"Of course. I'll be but a moment." He said. Blaise shook his head with a broad grin.

"Nope, sorry. If I leave the two of you alone, you'll be right back where I found you in a minute."

Draco and Hermione looked at each other and the second their eyes met, they leaned towards the other. Blaise's chuckling had them blink and step back.

"I rest my case." Opening his arms, he took a small bow. Grumbling with a small smile, Draco gave him a soft tap to the back of his head.

"Shut it." He grumbled. When Hermione's soft hand took his, he turned to her. Smiling softly, she brushed back the hair she'd mussed.

"I'll freshen up and be there in a moment." The fingers of their held hands entwining without conscious thought. Softly she brushed her thumb over his lips. She wasn't wearing much lipstick, but some of it had been transferred. Smiling, he pursed his lips, kissing her finger. Those butterflies that had been dormant in both of them for the last few weeks came roaring back to life with a vengeance. Blushing and breathing easier than she had in months, she took a step before she did something stupid. Like kissing him again. She knew if they started again, they wouldn't stop. Hang the competition and everyone around them. Tugging her back with the hold he had on her hand, he raised it to his mouth, kissing it and nuzzling it before letting go. Smiling shyly she turned from them.

Draco watched her leave with a soft smile and a new lightness in his chest. Breathing deep he turned to Blaise, who took him in with a curious expression.

"So you're finally making a move?" His old friend asked. Groaning and laughing, he indicated for them to walk.

"Yes, I did. It was foolish of me to think that I would be able to stay away. Not to mention how glorious she looked today." A dreamy expression was on his face, as he recalled how fierce and sexy she had looked stamping those old fools into the dust.

"Don't you mean how scary? I asked her for a sparring session. I sure as hell am reconsidering that course of action." Blaise said with a frown and took in Draco. Snickering Blaise nudged him in the shoulder. "Might want to do something about that." He indicated Draco's hips with a tilt of his head. Cursing Draco cast a disillusionment charm.

"I was about to, when you interrupted." He growled. It held no heat though, since he was somewhat glad they'd been interrupted. Hermione deserved so much better. And he would provide it. All she ever dreamed of in a courtship would be hers. Flowers, poems, dinners, theater, concerts, anything she asked for, would be hers. Already his mind was churning with ideas. He would cherish her and treat her like the queen she was.

xXx

As Hermione ascended the stairs from the catacombs after having changed her clothes, she noted how people made way for her. Inclining her head and smiling, she moved through them to the section reserved for dependants of the teams. Normally the wife's of the coaches or the girlfriends of the assistants sat here, but today there seemed to be others as well. She guessed it was only natural that the stadium owner wanted to make a better profit, since these were some of the best seats in the house. Halfway between the freestyle arena and the duelling carpets. As such these seats offered an excellent view of both venues.

"Hermione Granger. Trust you to make a splash and show people how little they know." She stiffened at the voice. With wide eyes she turned, her mouth slightly open.

"Harry?" She gasped. Grinning her oldest friend opened his arms wide.

"In the flesh." He laughed and only laughed louder, when she jumped into his arms, hugging him tight.

"Hey there, girlfriend." Ginny piped in, wiggling her eyebrows at Hermione. Squealing Hermione reached out with her arm, dragging Ginny into her hug. Laughing they took each other in. Grumbling around them pulled Hermione back and she looked around, making apologies and leading her best friends to the seats set aside for Salem. A man called over to Harry, but he waved him off.

"What are you doing here? Why didn't you call?" Hermione asked eagerly. Ginny giggled.

"Wanted to surprise you. Didn't know that you would give us a show of being a total bad ass." She winked, while Hermione blushed. Harry nudged her in the shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile.

"I was invited by the American ministry on Auror business. Seems as if they are keen to get a force together similar to ours and that your program is at the core of that effort." He waggled his eyebrows, pride clearly showing in his eyes. Blushing a bit, she crossed her legs primly.

"Not my program. Draco's. He made a good case and I am happy that others see the merit. The FBI apparently has their own magical branch, but it is severely understaffed and when they catch a case, almost their entire time is spent on making sure that their muggle colleagues don't catch on. Hard to do with muggles trained in spotting liars and curious behaviour. A federal force of only wizards would be a great improvement."

"Draco, hm?" Ginny chuckled and raised an eyebrow when both Harry and Hermione looked to her. While Harry was confused, Hermione's blush deepened.

"Yes, Draco. He...we...I mean...it's complicated." She stopped trying to form a sentence, flustered. Just a few minutes ago, she had been inches from ravaging the man and the experience was still very fresh in her mind. The butterflies still in full flight. Especially since she caught his eye as he was watching her while arraying the traditional team on their bench in preparation for the first duels. Even from this distance she could see him smile softly and wink. Her cheeks burned by now due to all the blushing she had been doing in the last few minutes. Ginny perked up at this, genuinely happy for Hermione. She could do much worse, including Ginny's own brother. While she wasn't going to hug Draco Malfoy anytime soon and call him friend, she was open to the idea of him being a better person. What Hermione had told her in their weekly phone conversations indicated as much.  
Harry was slower in catching on. When he did though, his jaw grew rigid. Breathing deep, he tried to keep his reaction in check. He vividly remembered the conversation he'd had with Hermione before she'd moved to the States. And she had been right. As always. His enmity towards Draco was silly now. They were adults and while Malfoy had done terrible things as a teenager, he'd paid a heavy price for them. Not only the prison sentence, but also the social status of pariah and loss of many friends. In the first few weeks after Hermione's move, he'd gone over the files he had on the Malfoys and especially Draco. Narcissa kept her hands clean and ran the business in the UK and apparently she kept Lucius on a short leash these days. Something Andromeda had confirmed with delight. While the oldest Black sister had been wary about contacting her sister again, she had done so and never regretted it. Little Teddy was not allowed to go to the Manor, but Andromeda visited Narcissa quite often and Andy like to poke at Lucius. Narcissa let her, since Lucius was on probation with his wife. Maybe for the rest of his life. Not that Harry cared. It was enough for him that Lucius was only allowed use of magic on the Malfoy estate and had to do muggle community service twice a week. A duty he reportedly despised, but did anyway in order to spare his family any more pain or humiliation.  
Draco Malfoy was someone he'd never believed capable of change. The reports he'd read he hadn't believed in the beginning. But the officers having filed them were known for their excellent work ethics. They had been chosen specifically for those ethics to do the reporting on former death eaters or sympathisers, so that none could claim any kind of falsification, simplification or exageration. Then he'd met Jarvis Grimsby on his visit to the UK after taking over Malfoy Enterprises in the US. He'd been startled to discover that the man was indeed a squib, always accompanied by his secretary who performed any magic that may be needed. Their discussion had been short, since they shared an elevator at the Ministry, but during their discussion nothing negative had been said about Draco. Harry had believed this to be due to Grimsby being an employee and indebted to Malfoy, but when he'd brought it up during a Sunday dinner, Andromeda had backed him up. It seemed as if Draco regularly wrote to his mother and Andromeda had a few conversations with Grimsby. Both sources said the same. Draco didn't care any more about blood purity, only for talent.  
When he'd talked this over with his old partner, Seamus, Harry had been surprised to discover that Malfoy had sought Seamus out to apologise.

"Sent him right packing, I tell ye. Wouldn't have trusted the prat not to stab me in the back. Offered me a free shot, he did. Didn't know what to make of it."

Hearing that story, Harry had contacted others and almost all of them had told him the same thing. Draco Malfoy had showed up at their place of work or home and offered apologies and reparations. None had accepted. It must have been hard. Offering apologies, seeking atonement but not finding any. It had to have been disheartening, yet he'd kept going. Seeking out all, to Harry's knowledge, who had survived the battle of Hogwarts. All but Hermione, the Weasleys and him. When he'd discussed this with Arthur, the older man he saw as his surrogate father had chuckled.

"What kind of reception would he have gotten Harry? Molly is a wonderful, warm person, but if Draco had knocked on our door, I don't even want to think about what she would have done to the poor boy. And I wouldn't have been far behind. You and Hermione spoke on his behalf at the trial, but be honest with yourself, if he'd come to you with an apology, would you have accepted or thought it some ploy on his part?"

Looking to his right, he watched his best friend lean forward, as their first duellist ascended the stairs to the carpet. He had always trusted her instincts and her decisions. She had never steered him wrong. At the slight pressure on his left arm, he turned to his wife. Ginny's eyes were concerned. He gave her a small smile.

"I'll be open to it. Don't worry, I won't freak out." He reassured her in a murmur, looking back to Hermione. He hoped that his suspicions were unfounded. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her. Even if that meant she found it with Draco Malfoy.

xXx

Sabrina fought down the tremours in her hands. It wouldn't do to show her opponent how nervous she was. Breathing deep and slowly letting it go, she remembered the lessons they had in keeping a blank face. Relax your face. Think of the ocean. Even breaths. Do not react. That had been the harshest lesson for her. Professor Zabini's friend had come by again and they would have to hold their mask, while he baited them. Failure to keep the mask in place was extra rounds and more push-ups. She could do almost two hundred in a row by now. Her opponent was a broad boy from Wesleyan, smirking at her as they met in the middle of the carpet.

"Present wands!" One of the three judges sitting next to the carpet called out. Raising hers, she looked directly into her opponent's eyes, trying to get his measure. She only saw contempt and the expectation of an easy win. She knew that the professors didn't expect to go home with an over all win, but she would be damned if she let that idiot get the better of her.

"Bow." Sweeping her wand hand gracefully out to the side and her right foot back, she bowed and then took four steps back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Francis and Jamal standing next to her. Both fixing the opposition with their eyes.

"Any advice?" She mumbled. At the start of training she'd thought the role of second and support redundant. After all, none of the professional duellists seemed to have them. Now she was happy that her two team mates were there. Especially since there would be no shouted instructions from Professor Malfoy.

"Judging from his bulk he will rely on brute strength. He isn't fluid enough in his movement for anything sophisticated. Reminds me of our old team. Bait him out by blocking and dodging until he's advanced to about a phase and a half to the centre. Hit him hard to knock him back but switch to light attacks after. You can string those together quicker and he won't be expecting that." Francis counselled in a quiet voice. Jamal grunted in assent and she gave an imperceptible nod.

"Yes, master Yoda." She muttered. Tiny smiles tugged at their lips.

"Ready!" She blanked her face again and assumed her ready position. Wesleyan boy did too, but his screamed aggression, while Professor Malfoy always taught them to assume a balanced pose. Much easier to either attack or defend from.

"Duel!" The moment the judge spoke, the first hex flew her way. Blocking it, she breathed deep. The people watching vanished. This was just another exercise in the gym. Following the plan set forth by Francis, she let Wesleyan boy believe he had the upper hand, going even so far as to show 'fear' on her face. It worked, as he started to put unnecessary twirls on his hand movements, slowing him down. Francis had remained in his spot, his eyes fixed on the carpet and their opponent.

"Switch!" He called and she was glad he let her off the leash. Smoothly gliding forward, she snapped out her arm in controlled precision.

"Bombarda!"

With wide eyes Wesleyan boy sloppily raised a shield that barely kept him from being blasted off the carpet. Clamping down on her giddiness, she assumed the next position and started to pummel the fool, just like Francis had suggested. Step by step, she advanced over the carpet. With a yelp, Wesleyan boy's foot found nothing behind him, as he tried to take another step and fell. Standing tall, Sabrina saluted him and bowed, then turned to the judges and bowed again. Two of them smiled at her, while the third grumbled a bit. Descending the platform on her side, she met Jamal and Francis. Together they made their way to the Salem bench, still hanging onto their neutral expressions. Professor Malfoy glanced at them. He turned back to the other teams still out there.

"Well done." He said. Beaming they gave each other high fives.

As the tournament progressed, they gave a good performance. At least they thought so and it seemed as if Professor Malfoy agreed. Even Jeremy performed well. When he returned to the bench and Professor Malfoy clapped his shoulder and nodded, he was glowing with pride. His team mates proceeded to clap him on the shoulders too. They managed to win three duels, fight two to a draw and lost one. Not bad so far. All of them were eager to see, how the freestyle teams were doing, but their bench was on the other side of the stadium. The Salem bench for the freestyle team was very different from theirs. Their team mates were standing on it, shouting encouragement or plays to the duellists in the arena. While Professor Malfoy stood still and watched them with a keen eye, Professor Zabini was stalking behind the bench, barely able to contain himself from giving advice. He didn't contain himself when it came to applause or encouragement though. Within the first few minutes he was doing a better job than the cheerleaders. One of the other coaches sporting a spectacular bruise on his jaw continued giving Professor Zabini dark glances, who ignored those.  
An awed murmur went through the crowd, when Lorelei suddenly vaulted high in the air, having been basically thrown by her team mate James. They had become an excellent team with her being agile and flexible, complementing his strength and stealth. It also helped that James moved much quicker than one would expect from someone of his stature.

xXx

Word had spread like wildfire about Professor Hermione Granger having to prove her skill as a duellist and the Dragonquill Pub was filled to the rafters. The enterprising owner had opened all the windows and called in extra servers. No one could walk by the pub anymore since the crowd by now was so thick. All traffic down the cobblestone street in the wizarding district had ceased. Those who couldn't see, got every move and action relayed by those who could. Speakers were rigged to carry at least the commentary outside. The Guard tried to disperse some of them, but were quickly caught in the crush.

"I guess Coach Eldersmith will be eating his words by now. Ooh! Miss Granger just made sure he'll be eating soup for the next few days. What a kick!" The crowd cheered. Whiskey shots were being handed out and each successful hit toasted to. Some had even started to chant her name. Each spell or hit that connected was commentated and given voice with oohs and aahs.

"Still thinking women aren't good for duelling, Bob? I make a prediction right now, that the women on the Salem team are definitely **not** fillers for the roster. What a season this will be!" The commentator enthused and the crowd shouted in agreement. Servers rushed about the crowd, handing out drinks and snacks, as the hours passed by. Other shopkeepers who had come to complain, stayed to watch, sending curt messages back to close for the day. As dusk started to settle, the event was down to the last duel of the competition between the national championship winning freestyle team of Swarthmore against the team from Salem consisting of Lorelei Falidae and James Hawk. And despite predictions of the commentators that the duel would be short, it had been going for almost half an hour now, with neither party seeming to let up. Every ten minutes a pause was called to let the duellists rest and get input from their teams. The Salem team was clustered around their duellists, offering muttered advice and energy drinks. The Swarthmore side was much more vocal. Curses and hand waving was employed and Coach Eldersmith was fuming as he stood leaning against the stadium wall. As the traditional duelling was done, the other teams now clustered to the arena as well.

"This will be the last round, ladies and gentlemen. If you thought that the national championship was a tense match, you haven't been paying attention. UCLA and Houston better pay attention. Let's not forget that this pair has only been training for a few months." The Salem supporters, who had jumped in numbers the longer the program went on, cheered and toasted to the screen. A bell went off and the almost two hundred people outside the pub quieted down.

"And the last round starts! Moralez going right for Falidae, but she dodges! Even managing a hex at Smith. That girl lives up to her last name. Limber and surefooted as a cat, that one. Smith dodges, but Hawk is there! Hawk has him on the run. Smith tries to hide, but Hawk is on him. Good block from Smith. Where is Moralez? If he doesn't stop chasing Falidae he'll be outnumbered in a moment! Hawk still in pursuit. Falidae is changing course. She's headed right for Smith. Oh! That was a close one. Moralez almost had her there. She's sprinting now! That girl can run, folks! Moralez in pursuit. Smith still unable to shake Hawk. I would run like hell too if that boy was after me." A smattering of nervous laughter went through the crowd, but they were quickly shushed.  
"Smith sees Falidae! She is heading right for him! What are you doing girl! Look at that face. Any doubts about duelling and women, if Miss Ganger's performance didn't convince you, look right there! Smith has to defend to the back. They have him in a pincer now. The covers tunnelling him in. He has to go through Falidae or go home!" Everyone was on their feet now.  
"Moralez has to watch the crossfire, but he seems blind to anything but Falidae. Hawk still chasing Smith. Now or never Smith, or that girl will put, you, down! And he turns for the attack! She drops, but she's not out! Smith's spell is going wide. No! Oh my God!" The crowd exploded in cheers and the stadium in Washington apparently too. His voice drowned out by the commotion.  
"Both Moralez and Smith out! By their own partners too. What a win! What a match! Winning, well-deserved, Falidae and Hawk! Salem University wins the match against the national champions with their first ever freestyle team. All bets are off, ladies and gentlemen. There's a new kid on the block and they have come to win!"

 **AN:** Over a hundred reviews. :D Thank you so much! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I wanted this to come together right. ;) Hope you are still enjoying and I would love to hear your thoughts. Always looking to improve my writing. Have a good one!


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Laughing and discussing plays, the Salem team made their way from the locker rooms to the busses waiting outside the stadium. They would transport them the short way to the hotel they were staying at, where they would stay over night to then floo back to Salem tomorrow. All of them were in high spirits. Some of the other teams threw them dark glares, especially members of Swarthmore. The defeat of their highly praised freestyle team stung them hard. Professor Zabini and Malfoy had made it clear in the locker rooms though that there was to be no teasing them over this. Professor Granger had given the same message to the girls and continued to accompany them. Tempers were still high and none wanted an outbreak of hostilities. Some of the coaches might turn a blind eye, since their egos had taken a hit too, but none of the Salem professors would allow for this experience to be belittled by petty jealousies.

"All aboard now! There is a little party waiting for you." Professor Zabini called and waved for them to board the bus with the Salem University emblem on the side. Eagerly they started boarding, laughing and congratulating each other on good plays. As they found their seats, they looked to the front of the bus, as Professor Malfoy raised his arms and called for their attention.

"I want to congratulate you all. We did very well. Better than I ever expected and I want to thank you for all your hard work. There will be more hard work to come, but each and everyone of you can be proud of what you achieved tonight. You!" He paused and met their eyes. Breathing deep, they sat straighter with pride. Praise was sparse in their lessons, but when they received it, it was well-earned.  
"We have prepared a little after-party at the hotel for you. Relax, celebrate, but be back in your rooms at eleven p.m. at the latest. We have an early start tomorrow at seven and Professor Zabini has assured me he would get you out for training very soon." At his revelation, good natured groaning went through the team's ranks.

"Don't pretend! I know you love my wake-up calls." Professor Zabini threw in with a wink. Professor Malfoy smiled and shook his head. Looking to the side, his smile softened, which prompted the girls to excitedly whisper to each other. They had all seen how their professor had stared at Professor Granger. As they expected, Professor Granger was now boarding the bus. A great whoop went through the team. None of them had seen her fight before and after they had, they had a whole world of newfound respect for her. Smiling she gave a small bow to her pupils.

"All right. Enough of that. Let us celebrate!" Professor Malfoy enthused and they cheered.

The conference room the hotel had set aside for them was stocked with a bar and a DJ was waiting to provide music. All of them had run to their rooms, dumped their bags with their uniforms and rushed back down. Francis was a little nervous. Music meant dancing and he had two left feet when it came to that. With enough alcohol he attempted it, but it looked more like an epileptic doll with its strings cut. He would have to watch how much he drank. Tugging on his shirt, he waited for the elevator to get back down to ground level. The doors opened, but opon checking, he saw that it had stopped on the second floor. A man with dark , tousled hair and glasses entered, nodding at him. Francis mumbled a greeting. A red-headed woman was quickly walking towards them, smiling at the man and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for holding the elevator, love." She said a bit out of breath. Smiling he took her hand, while she offered a polite smile at Francis. Giving a small nod in return, he shuffled and waited for the doors to close. Why were elevator rides always so awkward? Was it a rule of the universe?

"You're on the Salem duelling team." The woman said. Francis turned to her.

"Yes, ma'am." He answered, blushing a bit. He hadn't expected anyone to recognise him as a part of the team. After all, he wasn't a duellist. She gave him a kind smile.

"I saw how your duellist performed. Well done." She winked and his blush deepened.

"Sabrina is a great duellist." He simply said. And it was true. Both Sabrina and Jamal knew that Francis wanted to be a duellist himself, so on weekends between study sessions, they trained with him. They were lessons in humility for him every time, but he came back every time. Over the weeks he had discovered that it paid off. While Professor Malfoy would most likely not move him to the duellists this season, he might make it in the future. He had discovered however, that he liked being support. The preparation, the tactics and the cerebral challenge spoke to him more than the physical aspect. The man chuckled and shook his head.

"Great form or reflexes may make for a good fighter, but it takes knowledge and brains for a truly great duellist. I myself am a good fighter, but Hermione Granger is a truly gifted duellist. As I am sure you know by now." He winked. Francis couldn't help the wide smile now on his face.

"Yeah! I knew she had to be good, since Professor Malfoy hired her, but I never expected that. In class she's always so nice I would have never expected that." He enthused with stars in his eyes. The couple chuckled, sharing a look.

"No one expects it from her." The woman said with a conspiratorial wink, which confused Francis. Did they know his professor? A ding let them know they had arrived at the ground floor. Drawing on the etiquette lessons Professor Malfoy sprinkled into their training, he offered the couple to exit first. Smiling they thanked him and moved off together, arm in arm. Francis noted they were walking in the same direction as him. Weird. Maybe they were headed to another conference room? Pondering this, he didn't notice Gunter and Jeremy closing in on him. Laughing, Jeremy looped his arm around Francis' neck, pulling him in and ruffling his hair.

"There he is! Strategist extraordinaire!" Jeremy crowed. Huffing, Francis tried to get free.

"Jeremy! Let me go!" He grabbed at the arms holding him. Despite his best efforts, Francis was still weaker than almost all the others on the team. Gunter however was starting to rival Emilio and James. With no effort, he pulled Jeremy off.

"Leave him. That's not nice." He said in his soft voice. Jeremy shrugged, his grin undimmed.

"What? It's a sign of respect, man." He explained. Frustrated Francis tried to flatten his hair again. Damn! He'd spent a good few minutes in front of the mirror getting it just right.

"Good joke, Jeremy. How is it a sign of respect?" He grumbled, trying to catch his reflection in one the mirrored signs hanging in the hallway. Jeremy shrugged again.

"It just is." He said. Gunter smirked, throwing Francis a wink to then grabbing Jeremy in the same way. And he went to town on Jeremy's head. Francis laughed loud, while Jeremy attempted to get free. With a red head, Jeremy stumbled back, having managed to get out of Gunter's grip.

"What the hell man!" He shouted. Gunter and Francis were both laughing now.

"Sign of respect, remember?" Gunter asked, raising an eyebrow. Muttering curses, Jeremy walked off in search of the nearest restroom to save what was left of his hairdo.

"Thanks." Francis said softly. Gunter smiled, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Anytime." The tall German said and opened the door to the conference room marked as theirs by a small sign with the university emblem on it and stating it was a private party. They were greeted by cheers and music thumping through the room. Smiling Francis took it in. Keisha rushed over to him, drink in hand and dragged him inside. Smiling he went with her. Getting over his slight crush on Francesca, who was regularly dating Clarence by now, he allowed himself the idea that maybe Keisha was interested. Francesca hugged him as he came closer. Smiling, he returned the hug. It had taken time, but they had a talk and patched their burgeoning friendship. And he had to admit that he was happy for Clarence. Just like him, they had had trouble picking up girls all their life. Always being too small, too skinny or too nerdy. Francesca didn't care though. She liked Clarence for his nerdy enthusiasm. The only fight they'd had to date was when she'd tried to surprise him and finish painting one of his figurines. A week of moping on Clarence's part had ended quickly, when Francis pointed out that the thought counted and how many girls in his experience had ever done something like this for him. Francesca wasn't interested in comic books or table-top adventures, but she had made an effort for Clarence. Several gifts and a horrible attempt at serenading Francesca outside her window later, the two were a couple again.

"Look at this!" Francesca raised her phone. Clarence had taken a selfie at a pub with a throng of other students behind him. In the background was a big screen showing Francesca and Keisha after their duel, being declared winners. The caption read: 'My girlfriend is a badass!'. Laughing Francis took the phone, taking a closer look at the foto.

"I didn't know the competition would be broadcast. A shame we couldn't see it." He smiled. He hadn't checked his own phone. Afraid what his father had to say. He hadn't told his family that he was support, since he'd known the ridicule he would have to face. Only his sister knew. Now all of them did and he wasn't sure what kind of response he would get.  
He was pulled from his thoughts, as Francesca swiped her finger over the screen and more selfies of Clarence with other patrons of the pub appeared.

"This is so cool! We already have a fan club." She enthused. Francis smiled at the group foto of Salem students arm in arm with older men and women wearing Guard t-shirts.

"Attention, please!" Professor Malfoy's voice had them look up. Francis hoped that when he left university he had an ounce of his Professor's poise and presence.

"I am honoured to welcome Harry and Ginevra Potter to our celebrations. They are good friends of Professor Granger and I expect you all to welcome them with grace and good manners. I am looking at you, Falstaff." He turned to Jeremy with a lopsided smile. Jeremy toasted his professor and gave an elegant bow. The team chuckled at his antics, while Professor Malfoy shook his head with an indulgent smile. The doors opened again and the guests entered with Professor Granger. All of their greetings got stuck in their throats. They'd never seen their only female professor in anything revealing or form fitting, since her professor's robes covered her normally. Now the robes weren't there and she wore an elegant, simple black dress along with black pumps. Her hair was loosely gathered and a light bit of make-up accented her brown eyes. Keisha gave her a shy wave, which Professor Granger returned with a bright smile.

xXx

Draco had stepped over to the bar and gotten himself his second firewhiskey. The first he'd exed in a single gulp. His hands were tingling, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms. He didn't want to take her away from the unexpected reunion with her best friends. Sighing he took her in. How could he ever have thought her anything less than him? Swirling his whiskey with a melancholy smile, he kept on watching her. Stupidity. That was how it had been possible. Not any longer. Blaise had been right from the start. She was everything he wanted and more. And he would make sure that she knew. While she wasn't from one of the old families, he still intended to get the approval of her family. That would be the hardest part. He had no illusions about the reception he would get. Swallowing he saw that Potter was making his way over. Ostensibly to get drinks for the women.

"Malfoy." Potter greeted him with a slight incline of his head. Standing straighter, Draco turned to him.

"Potter. I hope you are doing well." He tried. The conversation had to start somewhere and the weather seemed too light a topic for this meeting. Wary Potter eyed him.

"Thank you. Yes, I am." Silence settled over them. Sighing Draco looked at his drink. Of course Potter wouldn't make this easy for him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Blaise looking and raising an eyebrow. Waving his friend off with a small movement of his free hand, Draco decided to get it over with.

"I wanted to make amends, but I wasn't sure you would want to hear it. Or even see me to hear it for that matter. All those I managed to seek out told me that just seeing me brought them pain. Hence my move to the US. Out of sight, out of mind. That kind of thing." He said lowly. The team had won a great victory after long months of hard work. He didn't want to dim their party with a shouting match. But he had to get this out of the way, since the strained friendliness between the Potters and him would throw a pall over the party his students didn't deserve.

"She was wary before moving here, you know?" Potter said, confirming Draco's suspicions about Hermione's state of mind at the start of the semester.

"Understandable."

"Not even a week in though and she started singing your praises. At least according to my wife. They talk once a week, you know." Potter informed him and Draco wasn't sure whether this was a kind of threat. Was Potter implying that he had hexed Hermione? As if he could! That woman's battle instincts were as alive as ever. Surprising her and putting a spell on her was almost impossible. Even if he'd been able to, she would have found a way to counter it in no time.

"I thought she might. I am corresponding with my own family quite regularly."

Potter took a sip of his own drink and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so? How is your dear father?" There was a slight curl to Potter's lip, which Draco understood only too well. Snorting he indicated for them to take a seat at one of the tables scattered about the room.

"Grumbling about the unfairness of the world, no doubt. Not that anyone cares what he has to say, thank Merlin." Draco took a seat, crossing his long legs. Potter took a seat opposite with a raised eyebrow.

"This coming from the man, who always called on his father's name...quite a change." Harry said and took another sip. Sighing Draco took in his students and as his eyes came to rest on Hermione a smile tugged at his lips.

"Change is a good thing. Slow in coming to some. I can understand you still distrust me. If I were you, I wouldn't trust me. All I am asking for is a chance. Living with evil incarnate and prison tend to change a man." He looked over to his old nemesis and gave a sardonic smile.

"You never gave detailed testimony about what happened at the manor while Voldemort was there. Why?" Potter asked. Draco's grip on his glass tightened, his face going blank and his jaws working hard.

"There was no point. Every depravity imaginable was being done. All I held dear defiled. The foundation my world had rested upon shattered. The scar you gave me in sixth year was a mere tickle to what I received later." He emptied his glass in one swallow, his back tensing in remembered pain. Harry took him in and saw the signs. Ever the keen observer.

"They tortured you." He said in a low voice. Draco chuckled darkly and met Harry's inquisitive gaze. Unlike most, Harry didn't flinch from the contact.

"Oh, she did. Everything for her precious Lord." Looking down, he saw that Potter had pushed over his own glass.

"She's dead." Harry offered, but Draco only snorted.

"Not in here." He tapped his head. "On bad days, she is very much alive. Laughing as she cuts me. As my mother stands by, having to watch." He took the glass off the table, emptying it and giving a grimace as the liquid fire of the beverage burned down his throat.

"I am sorry." Harry said sombrely. He had heard stories. Proud tales of the Death Eaters caught and incarcerated at Azkaban. Tales of death and torture. None of them had mentioned that their own had been targets. The snatchers working for them as henchmen, yes, but not branded Death Eaters. Yet the slight tremor in Draco's hands and sheen of remembered pain in his eyes was impossible to fake. Despite all the angst and hardship, Harry had never been tortured. Hermione had and after the war, when she had been living with him and he had held her after her nightmares, she had tried to make him understand how it felt. He only knew that it scarred deeply. So deep that trying to act as if was impossible. Looking into Draco's eyes, he saw that his old enemy had more than paid for his crimes. Crimes committed in the desperate hope that they would save his family.

"Those are my words, Potter. Nothing was done to me that I didn't deserve, though my therapist disagrees." Draco said with a melancholy tilt of his lips.

"Hermione made you go too?" Harry asked, hoping to lift the other man's spirits and wasn't that a surprise? Draco chuckled, inclining his head.

"Yes, she did. She was as sneaky as any Slytherin about it no less." Both men had to chuckle at this.

"Oh, you have no idea." Harry said with a smile. Shaking his head and looking over at Hermione again, Draco breathed deep. Looking at her helped him relax every time.

"I am getting an inkling. I hope to get much more of one. I intend to court her, Potter. I tried not to. She deserves so much better." A bit of sadness was in Draco's voice. Harry took him in. If he were to guess, he looked much the same when he was looking at his wife. This was no trick, ploy or simple infatuation. Draco Malfoy was in love with his best friend.

"Why are you telling me?" He asked. Draco turned to him, meeting his eyes head on.

"Because for all intents and purposes you are her brother. I will seek out her parents, informing them as well. They deserve to ask me anything. The role I played in the events leading to their daughter having to erase their memories and sending them to the other end of the world." Draco stiffened his spine, getting tense just thinking about that conversation. It would be torture of a whole other kind, but he would face it. For her. Anything for her.

"Maybe it would be better if I broke the news." Harry said, having Draco stare at him surprised.

"Excuse me?" Astonishment was all over Malfoy's face. Harry had to chuckle. The expression Malfoy wore not dissimilar to Hermione's when he'd rendered her speechless at their lunch so many months ago.

"I talk to her parents quite often. She talks to them often too. If the two of you start dating, they will know well before you can make it back to the UK." Harry had to work hard not to laugh at Draco's dismayed expression. "Lucky for you that she's muggleborn and they don't know about your traditions. I know Molly was a bit put out with me that I hadn't 'officially' asked her and Arthur about dating Ginny. Among muggles that kind of thing hasn't been done for a century or two. And Hermione is an independent woman. She makes up her own mind and her parents respect her for it. At some point, if this between the two of you goes anywhere, you will meet them."

Breathing deep, Draco nodded.

"Very well. I guess I may have to rethink some of my approach. I was only expected to court other witches of the high society. I guess other rules apply." He said, his eyes unfocused as he discarded some of the plans he'd made. Chuckling Harry leant back. Here was a conversation he'd never thought he'd have.

"Just do what feels natural. Trust me when I say that Hermione will let you know in no uncertain terms whether it's appropriate or not." A pair of arms slung over Harry's shoulders from behind.

"Are you done threatening him?" Ginny asked her husband with a mischievous smile, winking at Draco to his surprise. Harry huffed, taking her hand and kissing it.

"I would never dream of it, darling. Hermione said to play nice." Both Potters smiled. A tentative smile tugged at Draco's lips. This was wholly new territory for him. Possible friendship to Harry Potter. A soft hand touched his shoulder and before he looked up, he knew that it was Hermione next to him. Rising, he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She blushed a bit, but her smile was as radiant as ever.

"Are you all behaving?" She asked in jest. Opening his mouth in mock outrage, Harry spread his arms.

"Why is everyone assuming that we're about to duel?" He asked exasperated. Hermione and Draco had intertwined the fingers of their hands and she affectionately stroked his chest.

"I know the two of you and past encounters never went especially well." She chastised softly, leaning closer to Draco and looking up at him. He didn't notice the Potters watching him intently as he leaned closer to Hermione.

"I would never upset my lady." He whispered in a sultry voice, kissing her hand again. Worried the Potters noticed not only the flames in Hermione's eyes, but an answering darkness in Malfoy's.

The tense moment was broken by Blaise pulling Hermione away from Draco. Harry already had his wand in his hand to incapacitate either, as it appeared Hermione wasn't the only one with a darkness inside her. While others back in the UK had worked hard to get rid of theirs, she had embraced it and made it work for her. At a sometimes terrible cost. This included that any surprise sprung on her could go terribly wrong.

"This is a party, you dullards! Dance with me, oh badass beauty of the Isles." Blaise enthused, sweeping a now laughing Hermione to the dance floor. Draco's tense stance had relaxed the instant he saw his friend and laughed. Ginny and Harry were dumbfounded. If any of them had attempted something similar only a year from now, the entire hotel would be a smoking ruin with a crying Hermione in the middle of it all. It seemed as if the change in job and new relationship was more than good for their old friend. A blushing student stepped up to Draco, asking him for a dance. Graciously he accepted, excusing himself to Ginny and Harry. Taking a seat next to her husband, Ginny watched Hermione sway to the music, laughing at something Blaise said.

"I haven't seen her this relaxed in forever. Maybe never. She was always so uptight. When we went clubbing I could only get her to dance after she was really drunk." She murmured, while snuggling up to Harry. Laying an arm about her, he nodded and watched as well.

"I know. This is good for her. Even him, though I am loath to admit it." They took in Draco, as he attempted to classically dance to modern music.

"You saw it too, didn't you? There is something in him too." Ginny whispered. He gravely nodded, his eyes staying on the dance floor.

"Yes. I pity the fool coming between them." He muttered. He trusted both enough to have their fights not escalate to a level where they would be a danger to others around them.

xXx

The Salem duelling team were received as heroes when they returned to campus the next day. Almost every student had flocked to the gates to greet them. Some of the quidditch team members were jealous, since they never got such a reception when they returned. And Salem hadn't even won the overall competition! The dean greeted Malfoy with a hearty handshake, congratulating his newest hire on a spectacular start of the season. Already they were placed fourth in the ranking and the board was more than happy with the performance of their new coach. The administration offices had been inundated with orders for Salem shirts and hoodies to show support for the team. Reporters from various news outlets had called, asking for interviews of the team and especially their three coaches. Over night, they had become celebrities. Especially Hermione. Women all over the country were clamouring to hear more about her. Speculations were running wild of where she had learned her skills.

While Draco was happy that the first competition had gone well, he knew they still had a long road ahead of them. This was simply the start of the season and much could happen in the interim.

"Move on now. Your adoring fans can wait. Professor Zabini expects you in the gym in twenty minutes." He called out to the team. Grinning they trooped off, waving to the other students. He followed them and made his way to his office. He needed to update the student charts and files. Surprised he saw Theo in front of his door, scribbling a note on a pad.

"Theo?" He asked, closing the distance. With a smile Theo turned around, closing the notepad and stowing it in his jacket.

"Ah! The triumphant hero returns." Theo greeted mockingly with a bow. Chuckling Draco shook his head and unlocked the door to his office.

"What can I do for you?" Draco asked, inviting Theo in.

"You asked me to check on certain names. I have some interesting information and a few questions."

Draco offered him a seat and settled behind his desk.

"By all means, ask away." He invited. Lounging in his chair, Theo crossed his legs, adjusting the fall of the fabric of his pants.

"The Bellworths are up to their necks in debt. Over their necks, really. Daddy dearest lost it all playing poker in gnome dens. Idiot. His company is just about done. The only thing that is worth anything there is the real estate. Prime location in the middle of Boston's largest wizarding district. As his client base dwindled, he actually made a smart move by decreasing employees and renting out the freed up space. That tided them over for a bit. Currently there are three mortgages on the property."

Sighing Draco rubbed his brow. This was not good. The money wasn't the problem, but the inherent beaurocratic paper battle. Who owed what to whom and how much interest had accrued. The accountants were sure to make a fortune. If he had enough free time, he would be able to untangle the mess himself, but he had other priorities at the moment. No matter how much he enjoyed such financial intricacies.

"Anything on their personal property?"

Theo snorted in dark amusement.

"Oh, my father would have been proud! All smoke and mirrors. The mansion they're living in, not theirs. The bank had already taken possession. They're living there at the leisure of the 'good' friend bailing them out, Horatio Killian. Taking their financial situation into account, you would think that they would dial it back a bit. Oh no! A veritable army of house elves, dinner parties, the whole nine yards. I don't know what banks are stupid enough to give that idiot any more loans, but he isn't hurting for money currently. At least not according to my friend Groktal. Daddy is back to poker as if nothing was wrong." Both exchanged a glance and shook their heads. Addiction something both abhorred.

"Their daughter?" Draco asked. Picking at non-existant threads Theo raised a brow.

"Smarter than both her parents. Recently she's made sure that neither her mother or father can touch anything that's hers. A little late, but at least she was able to save a couple of thousand and two apartments. Her money was split and one account **very** successfully invested into an endeavour no one saw succeed. Know anything about that?"

Draco smirked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Both shared a grin. Theo sobered quickly though.

"Why, Draco? Why this girl? She's not one of your students, but I am sure the Dean would frown on such a relationship. Not to mention Granger."

Frowning Draco gave a little shudder.

"None of that, Theo. Dear Circe! As you said, she is a girl. I prefer women. No. One of my students made me aware of her plight. Her parents had the bright idea to cure all their ills by selling her off."

Theo's face closed down in an instant. Just like Draco, he was a staunch opponent of arranged marriages. As his proclivities had become public, just about every 'pureblood' family out there had stopped any and all attempts to marry their daughters off to him. Not because he was gay, but because he was openly homosexual. Rising, Theo grabbed a glass and one of the bottles in the small bar at the back of Draco's office. Raising a brow in question, he raised the bottle. Draco shook his head. Pouring a drink, Theo sat back down and took a big sip.

"Fucking bastards. To think I felt sorry for the mother!" He groused. Draco smirked.

"Who do you think had the bright idea? She was eager to keep her lifestyle. What was her daughter's happiness compared to that? It might mean she would actually have to work! Perish the thought."

"But she 'designs' jewellery! Surely that has to be enough." They shared a darkly sardonic look.

"Thank you for your efforts. I'll approach Killian at the Jupiter fundraiser. Get his measure and then lay my plans." Draco rose, offering Theo his hand. Shaking Draco's hand, Theo waved it off.

"No trouble at all. The girl seems a smart one from what I could gather. Killian's son on the other hand." He shuddered. "No one deserves to be saddled with that one. If you need anything, let me know."

Nodding, Draco accompanied him to the door, once more shaking his hand.

"Will do. If all goes according to plan, I might have an investment opportunity for you." He winked. Laughing Theo shook his head.

"Only a Malfoy could turn this whole mess around and make a profit. It's scary. On a high note, Liam has asked me to bring you and the others around. Text me." Waving, Theo swaggered down the hallway. Smiling, Draco turned back to his desk. It was time to play with money.

 **AN:** Thank you so much for all the great reviews! :D I hope you will all continue to enjoy. I like to listen to music to inspire me, since I am a movie buff and love soundtracks. :P If anyone is interested, I liked to listen to 'Get low yo' by DJ Cue for Hermione's duel in the last chapter. Still looking for a title picture. If anyone has a suggestion, drop me a note. ;) Have a great one!


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

James was annoyed. Ever since they came back at the end of last week, the other students wouldn't leave him alone. Whenever he left Duelling Hall, he trailed a bevy of other students, most of them female. No matter how many times he told them to leave him alone or didn't respond to their empty chatter, they wouldn't stop. Sighing, he once more prayed for patience as Mandy...Sandy..? prattled on about something or other. His grandmother had taught him better, but he just couldn't bring himself to pay attention. He could care less about popular bands or movies. He had other priorities. Getting through the semester with passable grades was at the top of the list.  
In order to get those, he was on his way to the library. He wanted to read up on the spells Professor Granger had mentioned in her last lecture. He had a whole newfound respect for their teacher. He'd known she had to be good for Professor Malfoy to hire her, but he'd had no idea how good she truly was. He'd never heard about anyone being able to wield two wands at once. Theoretically it should be possible, but one would have to be ambidextrous he assumed. And then there was the whole thing of performing different spells with each one. He didn't even want to scratch the surface on that one. It had to take a massive amount of concentration. If he made it farther in the program, he hoped that she would teach them.

Reaching the library, he gave Melissa an apologetic look. The elder woman appreciated his silent nature and often helped him find extra materials. She had been put out when she discovered that his new fan club wasn't deterred by his trips to her sanctum. She didn't blame him though, for which he was grateful. Additionally she often chased them off. He'd made some cookies for her as thanks. He couldn't afford anything else, but it didn't seem as if Melissa minded. On the contrary. She had been touched by his gesture. As he passed her desk, Melissa stepped out from behind it and right in front of the five girls tailing him.

"If you have no business here, then leave. I've warned all of you already twice. I have no compunction whatsoever to barr all of you from the building." She warned. Grumbling and throwing Melissa dark looks the girls left. While some of the students might make fun of Melissa behind her back, none did so to her face and for good reason. None of them could afford to loose access to the library. Buying all the books needed was astronomically expensive and while the majority of the students were more than well off, none of their parents would be prepared to increase their allowances for books because they lost their library priviliges for a minor disagreement. Except for the gym and Duelling Hall, the librabry had become one of James' refuges. Ascending the stairs to the upper floors, he dug in his backpack for his notebook. Looking around, he made sure no one was watching him and ducked into a side corridor. Picking up his steps, he quickly traversed the hall, entering a seldomly used room. Breathing deep, he let his backpack fall to the floor. Smiling he approached the only piece of furniture in the room.

"Hello, old friend." He murmured with a smile.

xXx

Eliana had received permission to use the Salem University library for her musical history project. Their collection included more examples and reference materials. Wistfully she let her fingers slide over the many volumes next to her. It was moments like these, when she saw all this knowledge arrayed around her that she truly regretted not having stood up to her parents and going to Salem. She loved being a musician, but she would have loved to be more. Sighing she shook her head and took the stairs to the section on arts and music. It was as usual mostly deserted. Pulling the books she felt she was going to need, she ended up with a stack high enough for her to have to stretch her neck to see where she was going. Stumbling along, she made her way to the corridor leading to the private study areas. Surprised she stopped, when she heard soft piano music filtering from one of the rooms. Stepping closer, she closed her eyes, leaning to the wall. It was melancholy and a sad, but curiously also filled with hope. It made her think of her grandmother. The kindest woman she'd known and who tragically had died much too soon. The only one never pushing her to play the violin. A tear tracked down her cheek, while at the same time a smile tugged at her lips. Relaxing her stance a bit, upset the balance of the books she held. As they toppled, she gave a surprised gasp, attempting to catch them as they fell, while at the same time trying not to loose the hold on those she still held. Of course it wasn't successful.

Cursing she kneeled and began to stack the books again, not noticing the door opening. When she reached for another book, a large hand got there before her. Staring, she raised her gaze and met the eyes of James Hawk. Ever since Sabrina had joined the duelling team, they could only socialise at Duelling Hall and she sometimes caught a glance of the silent Hawk. And since their first meeting in the corridor when she helped Sabrina move, she'd found his brooding intensity a bit intimidating but also strangely compelling. It was something in his eyes. He guarded it well, but there was a softness there. Or at least she thought there was.

"Sorry." She mumbled, blushing. Sabrina would have smiled and made some clever comment, but her head was empty. She had no idea what to say and not sound like a complete moron.

"It's fine. Are you hurt?" He asked in his deep voice.

"No. Sorry I disturbed you. That was very beautiful." She hauled her books into her arms and quickly scampered off. She was sure her face was beet red by now. Struggling with the handle on her usual study space, she grumbled in frustration. Suddenly the books were lifted from her grasp. With wide eyes she turned and there he was. With his chin, he indicated for her to open the door. Quickly she did and he waited for her to enter. Following her, he deposited her books carefully on the table. For a moment he lingered before exiting.

"Thank you. You're kind but I'm out of practice." He said, closing the door. Her heart beat a mile a minute and fumbled for the chair. He'd helped her. Was he simply kind or maybe..? No. No, boys like him didn't even look at her twice. Swallowing and settling her hair with one hand, she pulled over the first volume. She didn't have time for this fantasy. It was farfetched anyway.

xXx

Draco set up the dummies on the carpets on their highest setting in preparation for the Guard students. Currently they were with Hermione, discussing the results of their papers. She always offered her students the opportunity to talk their work and the grading over with her. Not that it changed the grade she gave, but if they felt it unfair, she explained to them why. More often than not her students agreed in the end.  
Deciding to have some fun himself, he ascended one of the carpets, bowing to the dummy opposite him. It gave a perfunctory bow and immediately attacked. At this setting, the dummy did not vocalise its spells and while it surely was a great way for others to train, Draco still didn't find it a challenge. Sighing he fought the dummy back and forth, but only because it was something to do. He could end the duel at any time. It was curious. All his life had been spent in the pursuit of always being the best. The company had assured him that the dummies would provide a challenge for even the most experienced duellist. Either they had lied, which seemed unlikely, or he was better than their testing pool. He missed the uncertainty of whether he would be able to beat his opponent. He missed the thrill of a true fight.  
As he heard the clap of the door, he raised his arms, putting the dummy back into at-attention mode. Turning he was surprised not to find the Guards-in-training, but Harry Potter standing next to the bleachers, hands in his pockets.

"Fancy." Potter commented with a smile.

"Potter, welcome. I was not expecting you." Draco greeted him, closing the distance between them. Harry shrugged and took a look around the gym.

"Hermione told me about your program and I decided to see for myself. Especially since Guard-Chief Turner and the American ministry had good things to say."

Draco inclined his head.

"Thank you. I am happy to hear that. The Guards-in-training are doing well, but we still have a lot of ground to cover."

Harry tilted his head, taking in the dummies again, as well as the duelling carpets. Finally he turned to Draco.

"You know as well as I do that duelling a criminal is not a traditional duel. You move in every direction and not just back and forth. You hide from the spells you can't counter and you dodge those you don't have the time for." He said. Draco nodded and took a sip from his water, while opening the neck clasp of his duelling vest.

"Yes, that is correct. The traditional aspect is to train their minds. Blaise will train them in the freestyle aspects later. For now I want their minds to be agile enough to recognise spells and react appropriately without the excuse of dodging or running. On the carpet, they have to face the spells aimed at them head-on." He explained. Harry nodded in thought.

"Makes sense." Harry turned to Draco. "I am surprised though. Every time we matched up, I won." He pointed out with a teasing smile. Draco gave him a smirk reminiscent of his old self.

"Our first duel, you won. That fight we had in sixth year you won because I was preoccupied with more pressing matters and you using a very nasty spell. When we fought at the Manor, I let you win."

Harry snorted, crossing his arms. A disbelieving frown was on his face.

"Am I to assume that you **let** Ron win also at the battle of Hogwarts?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Nostrils flaring as he remembered, Draco shook his head.

"Hardly a duel, Potter. Weasley attacked me from under the cover of your invisibility cloak. I'd beat that cretin any day. Not that he would be much of an opponent nowadays from what I hear." He grumbled. Sighing, Harry nodded morosely. It hurt him to see how his best childhood friend had changed into the pompous stranger he met every day at work and every Sunday at the Weasley family meal with a new witch on his arm almost every week. Their conversations were strained these days, as Harry had been chosen over him to represent the Auror offices in this endeavour.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He sighed. Surprised Draco looked at Harry. He hadn't expected Potter to say that. He'd thought Potter would defend his friend, no matter what.

The doors opened again, admitting the five Guards-in-training currently enrolled in the program. The Guard-Chief had already hinted that as of next semester, more would be sent to Salem for training, as the current recruits were already outpacing experienced Guards, who had been on the force for some years.

"Professor Malfoy!" Ian Coster, the unappointed leader of the Guards-in-training greeted him. Draco gave the young man a smile in greeting.

"Mr Coster. Right on time. I guess Professor Granger let you all off easy?" He asked, which elicited chuckles from the group.

"Hardly, sir. She's hard, but fair. Though I still think my point about an immobulus being just as effective as an incarcerous is valid." Snickering broke out behind Coster and he threw a dark glare behind him. One of the women stood straighter, when she felt Draco's gaze on her.

"Ms Gomez?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She threw a mischievous glance at the others and ignored Coster's warning gaze.

"Coster just wanted to dazzle Professor Granger with his imagined brilliance in the hopes she would accept his dinner invitation." She got out with difficulty, without breaking down in laughter. Since the group was occupied in their banter now, they missed the dark cloud settling over Draco's face. Harry noticed and stepped up to him.

"You can't kill the boy, you know? I would have to try and stop you and what's more important, Hermione would never forgive you." He whispered. Stiffening Draco looked down at Potter. Bit by bit he relaxed. Breathing deep, he nodded.

"I can still put him through his paces though." He said with a wink, which seemed to ease Potter. Smiling Harry shook his head. Clearing his throat, he looked to his boots, before meeting Draco's eyes again.

"This will not be the last time it happens, Malfoy. Hermione is a beautiful woman. Others will notice. She has chosen you though. Let them ask and she will decline." He reminded. A small smile tugged at Draco's lips, his eyes loosing their focus.

"She said that? She chose me?" He asked hopefully. Harry cringed a bit.

"Not in so many words, but yes. I can read her better than most. Lying isn't something that she does well. So instead, she simply doesn't say anything. No matter how disturbing I might find it, she seems taken with you. Guess I'll have to deal with that for now." Harry sniffed in mock despair, eliciting a chuckle from Draco.

"I am sorry to be a source of discomfort." He bowed. Turning to the Guards-in-training, he clapped his hands to break them up. The friendly banter had turned into a bit of a shoving match.

"Attention! You are in luck. This is Harry James Potter. An experienced and battle-tested Auror. Something you hope to be someday. If you're doing a half-passable job today, maybe he will answer some questions for you." Draco turned to Potter with a raised eyebrow. Chuckling Harry nodded.

"I would be happy to." He said.

Over the next hour and a half Draco put them through their paces, as he'd promised Harry. Maybe giving Coster a harder time than the rest. Harry had to admit that Malfoy was a good teacher, despite his having it out for the forward Coster. His instructions were clear, he explained well and he also would demonstrate whenever his students claimed that something was impossible. While Malfoy was a stern teacher, he was also fair and gave praise when it was deserved. And only then. So whenever one of the Guards-in-training received a nod or pat on the shoulder, they stood straighter with pride. Panting they now sat in a row on the lowest seats of the bleachers, listening to Malfoy as he gave out some last-minute advice.

"Watch the wand, not the hand. Take the measure of your opponent. It's hard with the dummies, but as of next week, you'll face each other twice a week. Don't fall into patterns. It will make you predictable and your opponent will exploit that. Criminals aren't trained duellists, but a life of crime will have made them highly aware and able to sniff out weaknesses." Draco took them all in, giving them a small smile. "You did well today." He said and they all smiled brightly. Even Coster. Turning around, Draco met Harry's gaze, who had stayed throughout.

"May my students ask you some questions?" He asked politely. Grinning, Harry nodded and moved closer.

"Sure. As long as I get a go with one of those things." He pointed behind him at the carpets. Each with a dummy on them still. Chuckling Draco gave a bow in invitation. Rolling his shoulders, Harry ascended the platform to the nearest duelling carpet. With a smile he noted that the carpet looked almost identical to the one they'd had a Hogwarts. Dark blue with the golden moon phases and a straight silver line going from one end to the other down the middle. Draco appeared at the side, pointing to the midpoint in front of Harry.

"Stand there, please. As soon as you assume a ready pose, the dummy will attack. They are currently on their highest setting, meaning that they will not verbalise spells and act faster and more aggressively. Do you want me to dial it down until you get a feeling for it?" He asked. Harry threw him a look, seeking any sign of mockery, but only found sincere concern. It still baffled Harry how different this Draco Malfoy spoke and acted. If he hadn't known him as a boy, he would think the two were not the same person. Maybe they hadn't been. Maybe the hateful little shit Malfoy had been had been a facade? In school they'd always been rivals, bitter enemies even. The sojourn into the Slytherin common room didn't really count, as he was sure that Malfoy's behaviour towards Crabbe and Goyle had been posturing. According to the discussions he'd had with Zabini at the after-party, Malfoy had always been annoyingly intelligent, a bookworm to Harry's surprise and a loyal friend. Something he'd never expected. To him, Malfoy had been a self-involved, manipulative, arrogant prick, who wouldn't bat an eye at using secrets told to him in confidence against you.  
From what Zabini and Hermione had revealed to him over the last week, Harry had to wonder how different their acquaintance would have been, if Malfoy's family hadn't been that obsessed with blood purity and if Voldemort had just stayed dead. He doubted they would have become good friends, since Harry didn't doubt that Draco would still have been arrogant as all get-out, but it wouldn't have been this burning, hate-filled rivalry that had defined their teenage years.

"No, it's fine." He assured and assumed the ready stance so very familiar to him. Not only because he was an Auror, but because he'd done it so often since he'd been thirteen years old, it was an unconscious movement. Without warning, the dummy started moving. Gritting his teeth, Harry deflected the spell, attacking himself. The dummy proved to be a challenging opponent however. Countering tried and true combinations that had brought down many a dark wizard. And it was fast. Sweat started dotting his brow. Ginny was right. He needed to start working out. As he disarmed the dummy, he breathed deep. Thank Merlin. It would have been embarassing if the dummy beat him. Especially since he'd watched Malfoy effortlessly moving back and forth along the carpet, not even breaking a sweat. Descending, he handed the wand over to Malfoy, who nodded at him with a smile. Again, no mocking. It was almost disturbing.

"Nicely done. There are some extra water bottles in the cooler next to the lockers." Draco pointed across the gym to the glass door fridge. Nodding with a smile, Harry moved to it. The Guards-in-training met him there eager with questions.

xXx

Blaise entered the gym to meet Draco for their training. Putting the kids through their paces was fun, but he felt that he had to stay on top of his game in order to teach them properly. Draco felt the same, so they met three times a week in the gym to duel each other. He had yet to get the drop on his old friend, but he assumed it was only natural. Draco had instincts and reflexes honed in war. Blaise didn't. The moment things took a turn for the worse in the war, Lucrecia Zabini had begged Blaise for them to flee to Italy. She hadn't been sure how long she could keep the Death Eaters at bay with her artful lies and deceptions before she was forced to declare herself for one side or another. It was the only time Blaise had seen his mother panicked. He had remained firm though. Someone had to look out for Draco, since his father obviously wasn't going to. Blaise couldn't blame Narcissa. That woman deserved a medal for all she had done and endured for the misguided ambitions of her husband and in the pursuit of safety for her only child. Their discussion was the first and only time his mother had ever screamed at him. Right before she cried. It had nearly broken him. Lucrecia Zabini did not beg, she did not cry and she did not bend. Yet she'd done all three for him. A fact he never forgot, which was why he let her carry on with her fawning over him whenever she was close and the surprise visits.

Shaking off those thoughts, though he wondered why his mother hadn't dropped by yet, he was surprised to discover Potter still here. He knew that the Guards-in-training had left some time ago. They scheduled their duels half an hour after the Guard classes, so that Draco had enough time to recuperate if necessary. Looking around the gym, he was happy to see no scorch marks or broken furniture. Seemed as if Potter decided to play nice for once. Currently the old enemies were conversing in light tones and from this distance one might even make the assumption that those two were friends. Grinning crookedly, he closed the distance to them.

"Behaving, I hope?" He called out. Draco and Potter looked up. Draco greeted him with a smirk and a shake of his head, while Potter only inclined his head.

"Of course we are. What do you take us for? Yanks?" Draco asked with a sarcastic tilt to his lips. Blaise had to laugh. Both of them enjoyed living in the States and found the Americans refreshingly free of deceit and back-talk. The directness had needed some getting used to, but it made dealing with new acquaintances much easier.

"Still here, Potter?" Blaise asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes. Waiting for my wife." He said. Blaise sighed, looking to the ceiling.

"Ah! The married man's lot."

Harry scowled, but Draco just shook his head with a smile.

"You are one to talk. I saw you waiting for hours in the Lounge for Jane to be done for the day, so that you could head out for drinks and dinner." Draco pointed out. Potter turned to Blaise with a smug smile.

"Is that right, Malfoy?" He asked. Draco continued smiling, taking in his friend, who was blushing a bit now.

"Indeed it is."

Blaise snorted and roughly took off his track jacket.

"Enough with the banter. Get up, pretty boy. Time to get your hands dirty."

Laughing Draco got up and helped Blaise set up the freestyle arena. It evened the odds a bit. Blaise had long ago given up on trying to beat Draco on the carpet. The ability to dodge and run evened the odds a bit. Interested Harry took it in. It wasn't as big or elaborate as the arena in Washington, but they made maximum use of the space they had.

"Mind if I join in?" He found himself asking. This was more his speed. And he was interested. He'd never fought Blaise, as Zabini had stayed neutral throughout the war. And Malfoy had hinted that every time they had fought, he had either been hampered or holding back. He was always told that he was the best fighter the Ministry had, but that was hardly true, Harry thought. Every time he trained, he noticed that all his opponents were slightly star struck. He needed opponents who wouldn't give him an inch and he firmly believed that neither of the two men across from him would do that.

While Malfoy looked worried and on the verge of declining, Zabini grinned widely and sweeping his hand out in invitation.

"By all means. Might make this bout interesting." Blaise nudged Draco and wiggled his eyebrows. Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, praying for patience. All three men entered the arena.

"No teams. Everyone is fair game. Duel ends when two are out or have yielded. Agreed?" Blaise rolled his shoulders and looked from Harry to Draco. While Potter nodded, Draco inclined his head and opened his duelling vest all the way to improve mobility. It also gave Blaise something to grab if he could get close enough. Smirking he jumped in place and loosened his muscles.

"Ready? On the count of three. One, two, three!" And the fight was on.

xXx

Hermione had eagerly shown Ginny around campus after finishing her discussions with the Guards-in-training. Laughing the women traversed the green. Hermione was often greeted by students. What surprised her was that a lot of them weren't hers. Ginny nudged her with a proud smile.

"Of course they would say hi to their new heroine. I would wear a t-shirt with your name on it proudly. Or an arrow to your side and saying "I'm with badass" on it. That would be cool." Ginny giggled, while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Stop it. I only duelled a few people. It's not something special." She complained. Wide-eyed Ginny looked at her.

"Only duelled a few people?! Are you kidding me? That was an epic smackdown if I ever saw one!" She enthused. Hermione shook her head with a sad tilt to her lips.

"Violence shouldn't be admired." She softly said. Loosing her smile, Ginny hugged Hermione. While she herself had fought in the war as well and had constantly worried for her friend, brother and future husband, she had never been hunted. While her parents weren't rich, they were still 'purebloods' whatever that might mean. Molly and Arthur had never raised their children to pay attention to that kind of thing. Ginny judged people on their own merits and not based on their genealogy. And it hadn't ever failed her. Her friends were true friends to her. While family was important, it wasn't the beginning or end of everything.

"No. But strength is. You are the strongest person I know. Not only because you can kick just about anybody's arse, but also because of your spirit. Without you, Harry wouldn't have made it. And I thank whatever deities there are for it every day. Harry told me what you had to go through. He never saw and you would never tell, but I've seen your scars, Hermione. What I saw in that arena wasn't violence, but strength. The mature strength of a woman who won't give up. A woman not ashamed to show her strength to the world. And you shouldn't be. Your strength was forged in the hottest of fires and tempered by your iron will. You will never be helpless again. Not because someone will rush in to save you, but because you will save yourself. But if there ever was a need, I would do anything to help you." She softly assured her friend. Hermione gave her a tired smile and nodded.

"Thank you. But my fighting days are over. I will gladly spend the rest of my days in a library." Hermione said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Ginny knew what Hermione was doing and gave a smile and a nod.

"You'll still come dancing and drinking with me sometimes, right?" She asked in mock seriousness. Chuckling Hermione nodded.

"Of course. Whenever we are in the same city, we'll go out for drinks. Maybe not dancing."

Ginny sighed.

"We can even head to one of those boring dance things you like." She allowed. Grinning now Hermione took her in with a sceptically raised eyebrow.

"Really? You would go to classical dancing with me? They serve drinks there too, you know?"

Ginny waved that off.

"Wine, psh. What is a night on the town without cocktails I ask you? And firewhiskey is no cocktail, before you try that as an excuse." She was heartened to see that no shadows lingered in Hermione's eyes. Good. The segue had manage to chase off the dark memories.  
"You said there was a bar you wanted to take me to here. When can we go and what is it?" She asked.

"You remember Theo Nott? He's living here too as a music instructor at Peabody's. He apparently also owns a bar and Blaise has been nagging for us to go. If you and Harry are free this evening, we could go. It's supposed to be a hoot. Seems as if Theo and his partner like to do some drag and there is alawys live music."

Ginny's mouth had dropped open.

"No! I heard that he had finally come out of the closet, but wow! Drag? Really?"

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"According to him, he looks absolutely gorgeous in a dress. The way he dresses, I am sure he does. That man has impeccable taste." Both women giggled. Ginny couldn't wait. Eagerly she sped up, wanting to find Harry and making sure that they had no more meetings or dinners to attend. She assumed her husband was in the building they'd been heading towards. A bright flash behind the windows had both women stop and look at each other.

"Oh no." Ginny groaned, gripping her wand. Hermione had hers in hand too and both ran to the doors. Pushing them open wide and assuming battle stances they looked around for their significant others. A mix of relief and surprise coursed through them, seeing that instead of duelling to the death the men were engaged in a friendly duel. Sighing they lowered their wands and proceeded to the bleachers to sit and watch. Hermione had to feel behind her for her seat, since she couldn't take her eyes off Draco. With sinuous grace he ran across the arena and vaulted in a flip worthy of any olympic athlete over a ramp behind which Blaise had sought shelter from Harry. Dodging the spell, Blaise shot another spell at Harry to then change position himself. All three were out of breath, but big smiles were on each face. The boys were enjoying themselves. Crossing her legs, Ginny sighed and leaned back.

"This could take some time, I think. Have anything to drink?" She looked over to Hermione. Lost cause there. Hermione was completely enthralled by her man. Chuckling Ginny shook her head and looked around. Noticing the fridge, she rose and got some water.

xXx

Draco wanted to laugh out loud. A curious urge he hadn't entertained in years. Who would have thought that a three way duel between his best friend, his former nemesis and him was all it took. Grinning he deflected another of Potter's disarming spells and proceeded to pursue and harass Blaise. Keeping Blaise off guard was always a good strategy. Give him an opening and that man would exploit it with a vicious glee seldom seen. Running along a ramp's lip, he had a clear shot at Blaise, but a spell from Potter saw him defend instead of attacking. Looking back, he noted that Blaise had gotten away. Grumbling but still smiling, he jumped off, took a step to then twirl back and behind a cover. As he had expected a spell shot along the trajectory he would have followed, if he hadn't ducked into cover. Breathing deep, he grabbed the upper ledge with one hand and pulled himself up. With a heave of his entire body, he managed to flip himself onto the top in a crouch. Potter hadn't expected that and was out of position. Firing a barrage of spells saw the boy who lived on the defensive. Turning his eyes away to search for Blaise, he met the caramel brown eyes of Hermione sitting on the bleachers, watching him. Smiling brightly, he waved to her. And got hit right in the chest by a cackling Blaise running by.

"Just you and me, Potter!" He hooted, while Draco lay gasping on the gym floor outside the arena perimeter.

"Cheap shot, Zabini!" Harry called back. It now became a game of cat and mouse between them. Draco didn't care. Lying on the floor, he closed his eyes and groaned. He felt a bit ashamed. He'd lost in front of her. Embarassing. Even if it was to Blaise and Potter.  
A soft hand on his face had him open his eyes again and she was right there, concern in her eyes.

"Are you hurt?" She asked softly. Taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, he shook his head.

"Not really. My pride, but I've had much worse." He reassured her. Sitting up, he brought their heads up to the same height. Ever since the tunnel he had wanted to kiss her again, but the moment hadn't seemed right. Besides, it was much too forward. They hadn't even gone on one date yet. She brushed his hair back and he leant into her hand. Letting his breath go, all tension left his body. How was it that she could make him relax by just a simple touch? Not that he minded.

"Let's get you up." She said and rose, keeping a hold on his hand. Letting her feel a bit of his weight, he got to his feet. Together they made their way over to the bleachers, where Ginny was a one-woman cheer squad for her husband. Both Hermione and Draco had to chuckle at her antics.

 **AN:** Thanks again for your great support and the lovely reviews. :) Hope you will continue to enjoy. Have a great one!


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The exterior of the 'Phoenix Serpent' was unassuming. It was a square, squat brick building with small windows and a forbidding long line at the entrance. A hulking bouncer vetted each and every person wanting entry. Curiously, almost every person wanting to get in had an instrument case with them. Harry took all this in with puzzlement and turned to Hermione.

"What is with all the instruments? Is there a discount if you can play?" He asked. Laughing Hermione shook her head, pushing back her for once free flowing hair.

"No. This is musician's night. In order for you to get in, you have to be able to play an instrument or sing." She explained. Blanching he stopped, pulling Ginny to a stop as well, since she'd linked her arm through his.

"What?! But you know I can't do any of those two!" He protested. He'd once wanted to learn to play an instrument when he was in primary school, but his hateful aunt and uncle had just laughed at him. Ginny giggled, preening.

"I can play the flute." She pointed out triumphantly. Grumbling he looked to his wife. She looked fetching in her silver sequine dress and matching strappy heels. He could forgive her much when she looked as delectable as this.

"You have a passable singing voice." Hermione pointed out helpfully while he blushed. They sometimes had taken road trips together and sung along to the songs on the radio. When being war heroes became too much shortly after the war, they had used to do that often. It reminded them of the better times while on the run. Singing wasn't something he was prepared to do in public though. If there was enough alcohol involved, he might be able to get out a verse or two. Looking to Hermione he couldn't find it in himself to suggest they head elsewhere. She was excited, her eyes shining and a bright smile on her lips. It had been ages since her smiles actually reached her eyes, as it was doing now. Sighing, he consigned himself to his fate. What was a moment of embarassment in the face of his best friend's happiness?

"Fine. But I will require a lot of drinks before I will even consider singing." He warned. Squealing both women hugged him, which had him laughing. Making their way across the street, they joined the queue, waiting for their turn. They hadn't even stood there for more than a minute when another bouncer appeared next to them, taking them in.

"You can jump the line." He told them in a deep rumble of a voice. Surprised they looked around but happily followed, since the night air was cold and the women hadn't brought coats. With a nod the head bouncer greeted them and opened the heavy, insulated door. The moment they stepped inside, music washed over them along with a gust of warm air. Ginny and Hermione breathed in relief as the chill was chased off and eagerly took in the big room around them. To their right, almost the entire length of the room, was a dark mahogany counter with gleaming brass railings. Clusters of taps rose in intervals, displaying the different sorts of beer in a colourful display. On the wall behind the counter shelves were overflowing with all kinds of schnapps, liqeur and whiskey. Three barmen were hard at work behind the counter, though all wore smiles. Scattered around the room were round tables with four to five chairs around them. Both tables and chairs were sturdily made and bearing the battle scars of years of service in a bar. The varnish on some so dark that they seemed black instead of brown. Most tables had nicks and scratchings on them. Names, dates and the occasional poem. The brick walls were covered in art nouveau posters beautifully framed. Fans lazily turned overhead. The lights attached to them threw a mellow light over the crowd. At the other end of the room was a fully equipped stage with a piano, drum set, microphones, professional lighting, the whole nine yards.

"The guests of honour have arrived!" A trilling voice greeted them. Turning around, they stood gobsmacked, not sure how to respond. Theo hadn't been lying, Hermione thought numbly. He did look good in a dress.

Xxx

Draco waited in front of the 'Phoenix Serpent' waiting for Blaise and Jane to arrive. He'd had a text from Hermione that they were already inside and held a table for them all. He was eager to get inside and spend time with her. This might even count as a date, even if they weren't alone. Could you have a date with friends along? Kind of like a buffer, if the conversation should run out and to prevent awkward silences, unlikely as that may be. Tapping his foot he looked once more to his watch. Where the hell were they?

"Draco!" Blaise's voice had him look up. Breathing a sigh in relief, he waved to them. He'd made careful overtures to Jane and while the easy conversation they'd had before his episode wasn't there anymore, they were at least able to spend time together. He hoped that they would in the future be able to close the cordial distance between them again, since he saw that Ms O'Brian was good for Blaise and his friend might actually consider a long-term relationship for once. Draco was reservedly optimistic that those two would remain a couple for years to come, since they balanced each other well.

"Good evening, Ms O'Brian. Blaise." He greeted them both, offering a small bow. He didn't presume to reach for her hand, as she had shied away from any physical contact where he was concerned. Not that he blamed her. Blaise frowned a bit. He knew Jane had offered Draco to address her by her first name, but still Draco persisted in calling her by her last name. Not as an insult, but as a sign of respect.

"Draco." Jane greeted him, even offering a small smile. She still felt a little uncomfortable in his presence. By now it was only a slight niggle in the back of her mind, but it was still there. They had sat down in a busy café and he'd been very open to her about his past. Not going into details, but still confirming what Hermione had told her that night. Draco had fought in a war. Had seen death and worse. Thinking on it, she'd found she would have been more disturbed if that would have had no effect on Draco. And she had also been heartened by his concern for Blaise. Draco was prepared to bare parts of his soul to her for his friend and to patch up their relationship. Props for that.

"Shall we go inside?" Draco invited with his hand, waving to the head bouncer as they closed in on the cordon in front of the door. Some of the waiting people threw them dark glances from the queue when the bouncer immediately let them through. Blaise waved at them with a bright smile.

"Perks of knowing the owner!" He called smirking. Jane elbowed him in the side.

"That wasn't very nice." She chided. Hugging her from behind, he nuzzled the side of her head.

"I am sorry, my love. Will you find it in you to forgive me?"

Grinning she twisted from his arms and pulled him along.

"Maybe. If you dance with me tonight." She said. Blaise's grin turned lascivious in a second.

"Oh, I'll dance with you tonight, darling. In any way you want." He rumbled, while Jane blushed. Draco only shook his head and handed his coat over to the attendant behind the counter. Turning away from the love birds, he stretched his neck, eagerly looking for Hermione. She seemed to have been looking for him as well, since she was standing and waving at him from the table she'd claimed with the Potters. A soft smile pulled at his lips, waving as if in a dream. She looked gorgeous. She wore a flowing, white shirt with only one sleeve, covering her left arm. Elegant black slacks fell all the way down to the floor. Her high heels just peeping out from beneath. Blaise's hard clap on his shoulder jostled him from his dreamy thoughts about inviting Hermione out for a romantic moon light walk along the beach or just to view the starts from his balcony.

"Stop staring and let's get over there." Blaise chuckled. Blushing a bit, Draco nodded and followed the pair through the crowd. The bar was frequented by a very eclectic crowd. There were patrons in suits and dresses, biker gang rejects, hippies and some who were dressed in pieces of leather and metal. Either as if they'd escaped the set of a medieval movie or as if they desperately wanted to reenact a Mad Max movie. Flitting in between were the relatively blandly dressed waiters in their simple white shirts and black trousers. A burning, flying serpent stitched on their breast pockets. Whenever there was an opening at the bar, fistfights would break out among musicians eager to get the job in the hopes that they might get discovered by their employer.

Greetings were exchanged and Draco quickly secured the seat right next to Hermione, much to the Potters' and Blaise's amusement. Jane was still a bit on the fence about this newer development. She was happy for Hermione, but at the same time a little wary of Draco. Not that she was concerned for Hermione's wellfare. Not after her performance at the Washington opening ceremony. That girl knew how to take care of business! She was just concerned that with their past as enemies it may not end well. Even if Draco was going to therapy now apparently. A waiter took their orders and while they waited for the drinks, she took a look around, eager to catch a glimpse of Theo.

"You wouldn't believe it. He greeted us and I was stunned. That man looks better in a dress than me!" Ginny told her, which had her chuckling. Hermione had called Jane today, telling her about the plans for this meeting and told her about her best friends. She found the Potters to be a nice, friendly couple, who were still very much in love, judging from the glances they threw each other and that they were holding hands from time to time. It was sweet.

"I am eager to see. He hinted that he could rock a dress the last time we got together."

Ginny frowned when she noted how Hermione, Draco and Blaise tensed. Noting it to ask about it later, she decided to steer the conversation to a lighter topic.

"So what instrument do you play? Or do you sing, Jane?" She asked. Flexing her fingers, Jane smiled.

"I play the guitar. Still keep up my practice. I regularly beat my hubby here at Guitar Hero." Grinning she placed a smacking kiss on the grumbling Blaise's cheek. While Draco and Ginny frowned, Harry and Hermione laughed.

"Guitar Hero?" Draco asked confused. Hermione stroked his shoulder, leaning a bit into him.

"It is a video game." She explained. He nodded, despite it not really meaning anything to him. He knew about video games intellectually, but had never played one himself.

"First round on the house in view of this **momentous** occasion." Theo's voice had them look up and turn to him. There he was, in all his glory wearing a classical, black Chanel dress, matching high heels, a tasteful rhinestone necklace and his hair styled into a twenties bob, complete with a rhinestone headband with a feather in it. He even wore ear rings. Hermione, Ginny and Harry had gotten used to it, a little, but the newcomers were speechless for a moment. Jane jumped up, squealing.

"Oh my God! You look amazing!" She enthused. Setting down the tray with their drinks, Theo turned slowly for her benefit, a smug smile on his face. Tasteful make-up had been applied, completing the twenties look.

"Don't I know it, darling." He purred, wiggling an eyebrow. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the reactions of his former room mates. Inside he was nervous of how they would deal with this. Knowing that their schoolfriend was a homosexual and occasional cross-dresser was one thing, but seeing it was quite another. Draco inclined his head with a small smile, which had Theo breathing easier. It surprised him that the one raised with the most conservative and traditional views would be the first to accept him. Blaise was still sitting next to him with his mouth gaping open.

"My mother can **never** see you like this!" Zabini said vehemently. Silence descended on them and Jane threw him a dark glance. What the hell was he doing? Who cared if his mother had a problem with Theo? A bright smile broke out on Blaise's face in the next moment and he caught Theo in a hug, to then twirl him in his arms into a tango pose.

"She'll be dragging you out for shopping for hours!" He said laughing. Theo hit him in the shoulder, stood straight and righted his dress. "On second thought, do turn up like this when she visits. Means I don't have to go as her packmule." Blaise continued his needling. Theo snorted.

"Hardly. We'll make you go to be **our** packmule. And Jane will come along."

In support, Jane stood next to Theo, both of them kicking their hips out and placing a hand on it. Grinning Ginny got up, shoving her cell phone at Harry.

"Oh this is great! Here, let me stand in between you two. We'll be just like Charly's Angels! Harry. Take a picture!"

Shaking his head with a smile, Harry pulled up the camera on his wife's phone. While the two women and Theo posed, Blaise was distributing drinks. Surreptitiously Harry checked on Hermione and Draco. Both were watching their friends with smiles, leaning back into their seats and holding hands. It was disconcerting how...intimate they seemed already. To his knowledge they hadn't even been out on a real date yet and they already acted as if they'd been a couple for years. Much like him and Ginny.

The evening progressed with further bonding, laughter and good music. As Theo had told them, everyone of his patrons tonight was a musician and none of them untalented. Each ascended the stage at one time or another to play something with other members of the audience. Due to the varied group of patrons, the range was as varied as well. And sometimes there would be a combination of different styles. Like the violinists and the drummer. Not something anybody had expected, but they pulled it off. Only rarely people asked for encores from the same people, since apparently the standard was high.

"Thank you Marvin and Penelope. That was wonderful. Now we have a few newcomers in the crowd." Theo's announcement was meet with hoots of welcome. He winked at their table. Jane winked back, eagerly going through her repertoire, while the others shuffled nervously.

"As we are nearing midnight, we have to make sure our newbies give us all a proper welcome! Which one of you would like to be first?"

Taking a long sip of her margarita, Jane jumped up, waving her hand.

"Me!" She called eagerly. The other patrons laughed and made way for her, as she quickly made way over to the stage stairs. Joining Theo at the mike, she waved brightly and threw a kiss at Blaise. Blushing a bit at this very public and forward display of affection, he nevertheless waved back.

"What will you do for us, darling Jane?" Theo asked her. Grinning and flushed from alcohol she took in the eager faces looking up at her. No nerves fluttered in her stomach. Maybe that was due to the copious amounts of alcohol she'd imbibed up to this point, but she didn't care.

"First; doesn't our host look fabulous people?!" She called out to the crowd. Glasses were raised, assent shouted, followed by quite a few wolf whistles.

"He's taken!" A broad chested, dark blonde man behind the bar shouted to the whistlers. Good natured ribbing was being thrown back and forth.

"Now, now! I love you all, but I am going home with him." Theo threw a wink at his partner. He smiled at the sounds of disappointment from the audience. "But thank you darling. Now what are you going to perform?"

"Nitro by Dick Dale." Jane responded and upon the cheering from the crowd, she proceeded to show the devil's horns with both hands and pulling a face. Theo gave a bow and an assistant handed her and electric guitar. Looping the strap over her head, she checked the strings and the pick she'd been handed. A young man with spiky black hair bounded up the stairs and sat at the drums. Grinning they nodded at each other. Tapping her foot three times, Jane started playing. Shocked Blaise sat with his mouth open, while the rest of the bar was on their feet within seconds. The fast riffs and beat even inspired some to start tossing their hair.

"I love your girlfriend!" Ginny shouted to Blaise, while standing on her chair. Just about everyone around her was taller and she wanted to see. Harry, as ever the dutiful husband, had slung an arm around her legs, making sure she wouldn't fall. That it afforded him an opportunity to caress her soft skin at the same time was simply a perk. He looked over and saw that Draco had to perform a similar duty for Hermione. With slightly alcohol hooded eyes and more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him, Malfoy toasted him with his firewhiskey. It was hard to keep track how many he had, since Hermione would sip from his glass from time to time or outright steal it.

Up on the stage, Jane was in a world of her own. She'd practiced for years to get this particular piece right. Hearing it in movies it had become one of her favourite pieces of music. Turning to the drummer, she shared a smile with him. She'd never seen him before or even talked to him for that matter, but he never faltered or fell out of rhythm. Shit on a stick this place was amazing! Dropping to her knees, she played the last riff with extra flair, looking up. Everyone was on their feet, applauding. But she only saw Blaise standing on their table, clapping the loudest and screaming at anyone who wanted to hear: "That's my girlfriend!" Her gaze wandered to the others, who were all waving or toasting at her. This was the best triple date ever!

After the crowd quieted down a bit, Ginny decided to get it over with and played a very old song on the transverse flute which none of the American wizards present had ever heard before. Many of them grabbed napkins or whatever paper they could get their hands on to copy down the music. Despite her piece not being as fast and rock'n'roll as Jane's, she still received standing ovations and questions from all sides what the song was called. Bright red, Harry ascended the stairs to the stage next. With Theo's help, they got enough people together and he gave a nice rendition of 'You and I' originally by Michael Bublé, keeping his eyes on his wife all the time. While most could clearly hear he wasn't a trained singer, they could still appreciate the true, heartfelt emotion he put into his performance. Which was promptly rewarded by a long snog from Ginny. The next was Hermione, who wore a serene smile as she ascended the stairs.

"And what will the Bad Ass Beauty of the Isles perform for us?" Theo asked with a smile. She blushed a bit at the moniker. She knew Blaise had called her that at the after-party in Washington and somehow the name had stuck. It had embarassed her a bit, when she'd seen a poster with a still of her from her duel, flaming magic whips and all, hung in a pub she'd passed by while shopping with that name on it. Luckily no one had recognised her.

"It's a surprise." She said. Almost no one knew she could play an instrument and when they found out which one it was, just about everyone stood in disbelief. It seemed at odds with her nature and her parent's classical upbringing, which had included dancing lessons and etiquette.

"Oooh!" Theo turned to the audience with comically widened eyes. "Colour me intrigued. Will you need assistance love?" Rolling her shoulders a bit, she looked out at the many eager faces.

"Yes. I bet though that enough people will know what I'm doing to jump in as needed. After all, this room is full of talent." A roar went up from the crowd, cheering and toasting her. Confused but shrugging Theo left the stage. Breathing deep, she walked past the guitars and basses. She passed the piano and keyboard. At the back of the stage were string instruments to the right and an intricate drum-set on the left. Surprised murmurs went through the crowd, as she took a left. Adjusting the pedal, stool, drums and cymbals to her height, she looked up and gave her astounded friends a wink. Her father had been a huge fan of rock and metal and he'd been the first to teach her. After the war she had started again, since she found that playing the drums brought order to her sometimes scattered thoughts and she could loose herself in the rhythm if need be. She found it also beneficial that it was training for her brain. It had also been what had inspired her to use two wands at the same time. Twirling the sticks through her fingers as she had done with the wands during her duel, she started and closed her eyes. Breathing deep, she enjoyed the tight rhythm and control needed. She had barely started, before a group of people were already dashing towards the stage. Jane among them. Within seconds, an entire band was assembled, including a grizzled bear of a man wearing a leather vest affixed with countless patches for different bands, states or countries. As the rest of the instruments fell in and more and more people recognised the melody, the crowd was once more on their feet. Tapping his foot, the elder man turned to Hermione with an appreciative smile on his face.

"You go, girl!" He rumbled. A bright smile on her face, she nodded to him. Turning back around, he grabbed the mike and threw himself into his performance. "Oh yeah! T-T-Teacher stop screaming, teacher don't you see?"

Harry was now up on his chair, singing along, as well as quite a few others. Blaise, Draco and Ginny were stunned. They would have never expected Hermione to be a drummer. But she was one. And she was **good**! As the chorus came on, Blaise almost fell over with laughter.

"I got it bad, got it bad, got it bad. I'm hot for teacher!" Everyone who knew the song, screamed the chorus along with the singer. By the second time, the rest joined in. If at all possible, the crowd was even rowdier than during Jane's performance. Had Hermione been sober, she would have never chosen that song, but she was blissfully mellow and it seemed fitting. She was having a good time, judging from her smile and the smashing solo. As she ended, the applause almost brought the house down. Her temporary band mates shook her hand and together with an excited Jane she made her way back over to their table. Praise followed her, along with Theo carrying another tray of shots.

"Brilliant, Granger! Such a wonderful surprise you prove to be every day." He toasted her with the sickly green concoction in his shot glass. She picked up her own, as did the others, and she toasted him.

"I always aim to please." She said with a smug smile. Laughing they toasted each other and drank. Settling down, they sat and Hermione eagerly looked for one of the servers. She would love some of that bruschetta that had been on the menu. She only hoped the kitchen was still open. Harry was happily munching on the peanuts and pretzels provided in a bowl on their table, but she wanted something with a bit more substance. Blaise and Jane were snogging and Ginny was snuggling with Harry. Which made her wonder. Where was Draco? Looking to her right where he had been sitting all night, she only found his empty chair. Turning to the hall leading to the rest rooms, she couldn't see his easily identifiable hair. Frowning she turned to the table at large.

"Where's Draco?" She asked. He wouldn't have left without telling her, would he? Was he concerned about performing? She didn't think so, remembering the discussions he'd had with Theo on that night. Or maybe he was better at theory than practice? With a pleasurable shudder she remembered how he'd sung to her and dismissed that idea. No. That man had a voice made of honey and molasses just made to whisper naughty things in your ear. Just remembering it had her hot and bothered.

Blaise looked around, wanting to shrug and say he didn't know, but his words got stuck in his mouth. No. Would he really..? He hadn't touched one since he'd been forced into the Dark Lord's services. Not by choice anyway. The Dark Lord had made Draco play, because it amused him, but the accompanying 'songs' had been screams of pain and terror.

"Theo!" He shouted, standing up. Theo looked up from the discussion he'd had with some of his regulars, following Blaise's gaze. Paling, Theo swallowed, knowing about the stories as well. Blaise's shout and their reaction had a rippling effect on the patrons, who quieted down in concern. Which made the first few bars of piano music ring clearly through the room. Turning to the stage the second she recognised the song, Hermione saw Draco sitting at the piano. His long, elegant fingers slid easily along the keys, his eyes closed and face serene. Silence reigned in the bar. It was sweet, melancholy and slightly hopeful. An undertone of regret somehow found its way in there too. It was amazing how many emotions he was able to convey with a very simple, but heartrending rendition of the same song he'd sung to her. Tears welled in her eyes. Sniffing, Ginny handed her a kerchief. Blaise and Theo appeared in the back of the stage with cellos and sat next to their friend. Softly providing a counterpoint to Draco's music. The last notes softly fell to silence and no one spoke or applauded. Breathing deep, Draco sat back, his hands trembling. Looking at them, he was surprised that they were still capable of producing something beautiful. It had been for her. As a hand touched his shoulder, he looked up and saw Blaise. His old friend nodded to him, giving a soft, encouraging smile. Clearing his throat and rising, Draco ignored the tear running down his face. Descending the stairs, he was met by Hermione, who stared up at him.

"Did you mean it?" She whispered, her own voice choked. Nodding he lowered his head. He needed to get a grip. This was embarassing to her. He should have done this in private. She didn't like public displays. He couldn't help it though when she rubbed his tear away with her thumb and he nuzzled her palm. It moved to the back of his head, pulling him down and then her lips were on his. She tasted of salt, lime and tart apples. Sighing he held her close, deepening the kiss. Her tongue still held a hint of the firewhiskey she'd continously stolen from him. She could steal anything from him anytime. Theo and Blaise exchanged a relieved sigh behind them. The rest of the patrons sighed and applauded softly. Just a handful of them knew how difficult their way had been and only two knew what an enormous step it had been for Draco to play the piano. For her.

Together Blaise and Theo herded Hermione and Draco back to their table. They stopped every few steps to share another kiss, whispering to each other and exchanging secret smiles. It was cute, but it didn't make for a fast way of travel. Jane watched them, knowing it was no use to try to address them. She didn't have to be a counsellor to see that those two were in love and currently lost to the world. And his music! The emotion he'd conveyed had her tear up, along with anyone who had a heart. It was so...tentative and hopeful and at the same time sad. Blaise sat down next to her, slinging his arm over the back of her chair and pulling her close. Breathing deep, he snuggled into her, which she knew by now he did when he was seeking comfort.

"You ok?" She asked softly. He nodded against her, his eyes closed.

"He hasn't played in years. Bad memories." He rumbled. She turned to the man in question. From the little he'd told her, she could only imagine what could have been so traumatic that he would give up music. It was obvious to her that Draco loved playing the piano, so whatever had made him turn from it until now must have been traumatizing. Turned out there was a lot more to Draco Malfoy than she thought.

 **AN:** A night on the town. ;) Hope you liked it. I urge you to check out 'Just the way you are' by the Piano Guys. That is the song Draco is playing and it is lightyears better than the original version. I hope you will continue to enjoy and have a great one!


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

While the Potters had headed back to their hotel, Blaise and Jane had run off to his apartment for a change. Hermione hadn't wanted the evening to end and neither had Draco. Lazily they strode through the streets, ending up on a quay to then walk along the beach. Gallantly he'd offered her his coat. Their hands were intertwined and they were leaning into each other. She was leaning more than him, since her high heels weren't exactly made for walks on the beach. In the end, she decided to transfigure them into flats.

"So shockingly your favourite colour isn't green." Hermione said with a smile up at him. "What other surprises are you hiding?"

"Oh...I have a weakness for muggle poetry. I truly did love potions, though I know most of you throught Severus favoured me. Trust me, my godfather never favoured anyone. He was not openly affectionate, but in his own way, he was warmer to me than my own father." His smile slipped as he thought of his godfather. When Draco had failed a test by his tutor when he was six years old, Lucius had berated Draco in his quiet, cutting manner. Biting down hard, Draco had barely kept his tears at bay, since Lucius despised tears. Seeing them as a sign of weakness and he would not abide his son being weak. Only when Draco had made it to his room, he had felt safe to cry. And that was when Severus had come to him. He hadn't talked, simply sat next to him and placed a hand on Draco's back. When the tears had slowed, Severus had handed him a book, given him a kind look and left. They had rarely spoken, but there had always been a bond between them. Built on their shared love of knowledge, books and potions. When he'd learned that Severus had died in the battle of Hogwarts, he had been heartbroken.  
He was pulled from his thoughts, when she let go of his hand, only to pull his arm around her shoulders. Smiling he held her tighter, leaning his head to hers.

"What about you? Is red your favourite colour?" He asked teasingly. Chuckling she shook her head and sighed.

"No. Don't get me wrong, it's nice enough, but I prefer blue. Deep, rich blue. Like a calm, peaceful sea." She mused, looking to the winking stars.

"Do you like sailing?" He suddenly asked, which prompted her to look at him.

"Why do you ask? I've never tried it." She wondered where he was going with this.

"Then you are in luck. I happen to own a sailboat. It's quiet, peaceful and when you know where to go, you can be completely alone."

She considered it. It did sound nice and romantic, but she also worried about how he described it. As if he had wanted to distance himself from others. To seal himself off from the world.

"I would like to try it some time." They shared a smile. Silence settled on them, but it was a content silence. He had learned so much about her in the time since she'd come to the US and he was glad she'd taken a chance. Not only with the job he'd offered, but with him. Ever since he'd met her again she had made him a better person. He had started the journey on his own, but it had stagnated. He had grown comfortable with the changes he'd gone through. Comfortable and complacent. It took Hermione to get him to address issues he'd been actively avoiding and doing his best to forget. He had never been known for being brave and he was honest enough with himself to admit he'd been afraid. Afraid that the thing inside him, the darkness, was the true him. That the accusations of his peers were true. That his change was a shell behind which he hid. But Hermione and now Adele had fanned the spark of hope in him that his transformation was not some ruse he played on himself. His darkness simply a self-defence mechanism to carry him through the hardships he'd faced and to survive. When asking Adele for help to get rid of it, since he didn't want to hurt anybody when he lost control, she had sadly informed him that it might be impossible. Some experiences led to ingrained behaviour. The pressure, angst and terror he'd been exposed to, had led to a part of himself to transform into a ruthless survivor. But again, both Hermione and Adele gave him hope. While he saw in Hermione the possibility of gaining control over it, Adele had explained that this darkness was simply a tool. It was a part of him and he needed to accept that. Through training and conscious control, he could harness the darkness and make it an asset instead of a liability and danger to others. She even provided him with reference material and stories of her other patients, generalised of course, who struggled with the same problem. Soldiers, who could turn to violence in the blink of an eye, even to their friends and family. But with time and effort, those same soldiers got control. Were even able to turn it to their advantage. Becoming fierce protectors. Dialling it down was the initial problem. Adele had explained that all those who had been successful, had a strong emotional anchor. Someone or something they wouldn't want to disappoint, scare or embarrass with their actions. When she'd asked him to find his, he didn't have to look far. The moment she'd explained the concept, Hermione filled his mind. The way he'd seen her during his panic attack in Adele's office with the sun shining at her back, setting her hair aglow. Pressing a kiss to her brow, he closed his eyes and breathed deep, drawing her in. Through no action of her own, she'd saved him. In more ways than one.

He noticed her shivering and steered them back towards the streets. As they walked, they kept up their conversation again.

"I love that you play the drums." He said, chuckling. Snuggling into his chest, she smiled.

"My father plays. He is a big rock fan. Van Halen, Dire Straits, B.T.O. and others. When I finished my homework, I would watch him practice. He would sit me on his lap and hand me one stick. And then we'd play." She smiled at the happy childhood memories. It had taken her a lot of searching, but she'd managed to find and buy back her father's drum set. After she'd obliviated them, her parents had sold the house and everything in it to get enough funds together for their move to Australia. Before she made the journey to get them back, she had spent almost three years to get as much back as possible. Chief among them the drum set.

"Can you play any other instruments apart from the piano?" She asked, looking up to him. Sighing, he nodded.

"Yes. My mother inspired me to play the piano. She plays herself and just like your father, she had me sit on her lap and 'help'. My father didn't think it an approriate instrument though. Traditionally the piano is a woman's instrument, so he wanted me to learn the violin as well. It wasn't much of a chore, since I seem to have a talent for it. Cello and bass too." He shrugged, but she was impressed.

"You could go into business with Theo." She winked at him, which made him smile.

"No, thank you. Too much drama. He is a good friend, but he can be a bit high strung." A mischievous twinkle was in his eye. Hermione snorted.

"Stop it. Theo likes to play it up a bit, but I bet when it comes to business, he is all on that."

"Indeed he is. We were all raised to know how businesses work and how to make money. With more or less success. Nott Senior is a vile bastard, but you couldn't fault his business sense. Which he passed on to Theo. Though I am sure the filthy old man would rant and rave if he ever found out what Theo is using it for. Playing an instrument was par for the course for all purebloods, but only as a prestige point. Pursuing it was, and sadly sometimes still is, seen as pointless or folly."

Mulling this over, Hermione got a glimpse into the oppressive childhood Draco and his friend must have had. She couldn't imagine her parents letting her learn about something, expecting her to excel and when she developed an interest and became passionate about it to tell her it didn't matter. That it was only a point of pride that she was able to do it. Not that she should pursue it. The only comparison she could think about was how her mother had taught her to read, igniting her love for books and knowledge, only to tell her that it was simply a skill she needed, but not something she should do on a regular basis unless asked to perform. It blew her mind.

"That's very sad." She commented, rubbing her arms. He pulled her closer and rubbed her shoulder to help her get warm. She looked up at him with a smile, to thank him for his thoughtfulness, but the words stuck in her throat at his stricken face. Looking down, she noted that due to her rubbing, her sleeve had ridden up, revealing the scarred word his aunt had carved into her skin. It had taken her a long time, but she was able to look at it in detail now and not immediately fall back into her nightmares or feel bile rising in her throat.

"It's okay, Draco." She tried to soothe him. Stopping, he shook his head, taking both of her hands, facing her.

"No, Hermione. It's not. You were disfigured by my aunt as was I. She placed my mark on me. The 'honour' given to her by the Dark...by Voldemort." Breathing deep, he met her eyes and she caressed his face at seeing the sadness in them. The regret.

"I have gotten used to it. Some days I don't even notice it any more." It was a lie. She always knew it was there. Could feel the raised scars when she showered. When she slept. Her entire wardrobe had no shirts, sweaters or jumpers without full sleeves. She took meticulous care to make sure that it was always covered. Not only for her, but to stop any questions. Having to explain it would constantly bring it back. Cradling her face in his palm, he leaned his brow to hers.

"Please don't lie for my sake." He breathed. His face a mask of pain, eyes closed. Stroking his face, she moved closer to him, closing her eyes as well. She should have known better than to try to lie to the Slytherin Prince.

"A sorry attempt." She sighed. "But I have learned to live with it." She whispered softly.

"You shouldn't have to. I am so sorry I didn't stop her." He rasped. Shaking her head, but not breaking the contact, she swallowed.

"It's okay. She would have killed you. She was mad." A tear ran down her cheek, remembering the pain. The knife point digging into her skin like a spear of iced fire. A contradiction in terms, but that was the only way she could describe it. At times she was sure she could still feel it. An echo of the acute pain. Soft lips stopped the tear's trail. Opening her eyes, she met his. Liquid mercury meeting honey brown.

"I can help." He offered. Her eyes widened.

"How?" She breathed, desperate hope soaring in her chest. She'd tried everything. Potions, salves, muggle therapy, had even considered surgery. It had been her impetus to train herself as a healer.

"She cut me with the same knife." He admitted. Eyes wide in concern, she held his elbows, while he tenderly cupped her face. "It was cursed. Severus figured it out. My symptons, after. The icy fire. How it wouldn't heal properly. With magic, scarring is the sign of dark magic. Other cuts can be healed without a mark, as you know. There is a potion. It is painful. The cuts need to be reopened. Nothing big. A scratch is enough. You apply the potion and it pulls the dark magic out. It hurts, Hermione. If it hadn't been for the spells on my room, everyone on the Manor grounds would have heard me scream. And screaming in those days only drew them closer in the hope of some 'fun'. Screaming was a **very** bad idea. If you want it, I will brew the potion for you. I will help you. Hold you, apply the potion, whatever you need." Honesty rang in every word and determination was in his eyes. Speechless, she stared at him. Crashing her lips to his, she kissed him with all the hope, fierce determinaion and gratitude she felt. Responding immediately, he held her closer, crushing her chest to his, his arms like steel around her as if he was afraid she would vanish.

"Yes!" She breathed, kissing him again. "Yes, I want you to help me, please." Fresh tears were on her face, but she didn't care. Licking his lips, he eagerly opened for her. He would do anything for her. Their kiss was passionate, yet sweet. It wasn't reaching for physical intimacy, but rather emotional. Slowing down, they sipped at each other's lips, nibbling, teasing. Smiles broke out and a new lightness took hold. Again and again they came together. Learning what the other liked and what brought them pleasure. Learning **their** rhythm. Both felt as if they could stay like this forever. No demands, no expectations, just being close and the possibility of love. A gust of wind ruffled the coat and she shivered. Pulling back, though loath to end their moment, he rubbed her back to get her warm, while she tucked her head under his chin, breathing him in.

"What about your mark?" She asked softly. He stiffened. Sighing he continued rubbing her back.

"I tried. It faded a bit more, but it is still there, as you saw." There was a defeated resignation in his voice. Stepping back, she looked up at him.

"Have you tried covering it with something else?"

Confused he frowned not sure what she meant.

"I cover it with my clothes." He said, but she shook her head.

"No. I mean with a tattoo."

Stumped he stared at her. Could it be that easy? He had never even given it a thought. Tattoos, as so much else, were taboo in his family's circles. Since he'd already applied the potion, the dark magic wouldn't prevent something else covering the mark. Others had tried. Cutting, potions, burning, one had even torn off the skin itself in an effort to get rid of it. As soon as St. Mungos had regrown the skin, the mark was back. But maybe...it was worth a try at least.

"Would you come with me?" He asked, desperate hope not unlike her own shining in his eyes. Giving him a lingering peck on the cheek, she nodded.

"Adele suggested we help each other make a change, remember?" Her soft smile elicited one of his own. Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles and together they left the beach. As a true gentleman, he would escort her home.

 **AN:** Wohoo! 40 chapters! :D A bit of fluff for our favourite couple. ;) Thank you all so much for the amazing support and kind reviews. I am floored and honoured. In celebration of this stepping stone, a few hints of what is to come: unwelcome visitors, revenge, jealousy, intrigue...oh my!  
There is still a ways to go. I am committed to finishing this and have put other projects on hold until I do. See you soon and have a great one!


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Stuart strutted over the campus, his posse behind him. Though they were no longer the official duelling team, they had resolved to stay a team. They were the true Salem duelling team. Not that rag tag band of wanna-be's. Before the opening ceremony they had some support from the other students, but after their support had dried up. It rankled. Everyone seemed to be taken in by their ridiculous team. None of them had watched the ceremony and first matches, since they refused to support the 'new' duelling team in any way, matter or form.  
Griffith and Toby had run ahead, checking that the coast was clear. Stuart checked around him, looking over the quad and the buildings around, making sure that no one saw them. They had all donned black clothes to be less visible. The idea of breaking into the duelling gym had been brewing in their heads for weeks now. Clara, one of the old cheerleaders, had staked out the doors to reconnoiter what kind of spells were on it. Giles had left them a key to the gym before he'd been thrown off campus. It was time to get some payback for the humiliation they had faced.

"The coast is clear!" The whispered call of Griffith had them speed up and Stuart pulled the key from his pocket. Aster was waving his wand next to him, lifting the wards on the doors. Clara wasn't the smartest, which is why it had taken so long for them to get into the gym. Their gym. The door opened with a click and Stuart turned with a dark smile to his followers. His grin was mirrored on each of their faces. The drop in status had smarted them all. Where before they could pick any girl on campus and be sure that their invitation to a date would always be responded in the positive, it was completely different now. Even the bookworms dared to snub them. Nerds were making fun of them! A state that **had** to change and couldn't be tolerated. Which was why they were on their expedition tonight. Rumour was that the usurper team had lockers in the gym. Lockers meant information. Aster had already noticed how the Latino bastard had talked to Eliana once and that was something Stuart couldn't tolerate. Eliana was too fine and pure to be exposed to such filth and especially now that she'd become Stuart's fiancé. His father had made it clear that she was his, but that he was to treat her appropriately, since her family name commanded a lot of respect still in the upper echelons of East Coast high society. Stuart preferred his girls lusty and obedient, but he would just keep his bunnies on the down-low. Eliana was the perfect lady, raised with all the poise and elegance of the old houses and while she never openly or overtly challenged him, she would sometimes give him a look. Those looks weren't long and sometimes Stuart thought he imagined them. In the end, he wasn't as confident with her as he liked to portray to others. Which had him fuming. He also suspected that she made fun of him, but he could never prove it. Her comments and compliments seemed...off.

Turning the key in the lock, he gave the others clustered around him a dark smile. Chuckling they pushed open the doors, lighting their wands as they entered. Turning on the overhead lights was out, since they would call attention to activity inside the gym. Jogging to the centre, they turned in a circle. They hadn't been allowed inside the gym ever since they'd been thrown off the team. Changes had been made and as Clara had said, against one wall was a row of lockers. Grinning they headed towards them, already contemplating what secrets they might hold. Long shadows jumped on the walls and floor as they waved their lit wands around to check their surroundings and light their way.

"Intruder." The mechanical voice had them jump and cluster together. Back to back, the group of young men stared into the pitch darkness around them, trying to pinpoint the location of the speaker. All of their wands trained at once.

"Intruder." This time the voice came from another side. Swallowing with difficulty and straining their eyes, they tried to get a look at whatever was watching them. Because they all felt it at the back of their necks. The tingling, creeping feeling of being watched. The hairs on the back of their necks stood on end, each of them tense, but the only thing they heard were their own, accelerated breaths.

"Who's there!" Stuart challenged, trying to project confidence with his voice. In truth, he was scared. The only comfort he had was the knowledge of having his friends at his back. If he'd taken a moment to take them in, shaking in their boots, his confidence would take a spectacular nosedive. Bullying students was easy, since they were sure of their win due to their stature and strength, but this unknown, unseeable foe was new to all of them. And they all very much doubted that whatever was lurking in the shadows was intimidated by them at all.

"Intruder. Intruder. Intruder. Intruder. Intruder." The voices were coming from all around now. They were talking over each other, making it hard to determine how many there were. Sweating and hunkering down, the group moved closer together. Bumping into Aster, Stuart roughly pulled him in front and stepped into the middle of the circle. The chant of the unseen continued.

"Show yourself!" One of them shouted in desperate bravado. Suddenly it was deathly quiet again. At the back of the hall, something lit up. Those facing it squinted their eyes to see better, already in battle ready poses. Before they fully realised, the glint of light turned into a stream of chains whipping towards them. Chaos broke out, as they tried to defend themselves. Spells, chains and ropes shot out of the darkness. Crying out in fear, most waved their wands ineffectually, not even trying to perform magic. Their scattered minds empty. One by one they fell bound or shackled to the ground, while they desperately shuffled their way back to the doors. All the way they were accompanied by the chorus of "Intruder" from the shadows. Scrambling madly, they made it to the door. Stuart pushing and shoving others out of his way to reach safety. Of their original group of over twenty, only four reached the outside, shoving the door closed and collapsing crying and shivering against the door once on the outside. Stuart failed to fit the key due to his shaking fingers, nearly dropping it more than once. Giving an explosive breath of relief and sobbing, he collapsed next to the others. Panting, his gaze wildly jumped around, looking if anyone was close. Grabbing the front of the shirt of the guy next to him, Stuart pulled him close.

"If you ever breathe a word of this, I will end you!" He promised heatedly, spitting in his fervour, not even knowing who he was yelling at. Pushing himself to his feet with difficulty, he looked to the others, waved impatiently for them to get up and strode off.

"What about the others?!" One of them shouted. Stuart waved him off and pulled on his pants. It stuck uncomfortably to his leg and he was grateful that he was in front of them and that it was dark.

xXx

Giggling Jane held on to Blaise's neck, as he'd lifted her in the elevator and carried her down the corridor. Just like Draco he lived in a fancy high rise and in the penthouse to boot. It included a beautiful zen garden complete with koi pond on his massive balcony. His living room and kitchen evoked a mediterranean feel, while his bedroom had an Asian theme. All his furniture he'd collected during his travels. She liked playing a little game whenever she was here, picking up something or pointing and asking him about it. She'd never travelled outside the US due to lack of time and funds, but Blaise had a way of telling stories which made her feel as if she'd actually been there. And he kept promising her that they would take a trip and she could hardly wait. He wouldn't tell her where they were going, despite her many attempts at getting it out of him.

Putting her down, he kept her in the circle of his arms, softly swaying side to side in the open area of his living room. There was no music playing, but Jane was happy for the quiet. The music in the club had gotten louder with the late hour and she experienced a slight ringing in her ears. She was also appreciating the mellow and intimate atmosphere, giving her mind the opportunity to simply cool down. She often had the problem after going out that she was too hyped to go to sleep and it could take her hours to settle down when getting home. Standing here with Blaise, softly swaying to non-existant music achieved the same as hours of watching TV or movies did. Sighing, she snuggled deeper into him, closing her eyes and simply enjoyed being with him. On the elevator they had kissed and joked and she'd been expecting and looking forward to a sexual ending of the evening. Right now though, those thoughts were far from her mind. His hands on her back were rubbing softly. Smiling she stretched her neck, planting a small kiss on his lips. Opening her eyes, she met his. His one hand caressed her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"You're amazing." He rumbled, his eyes wide as if he was surprised. She frowned. Licking his lips, he blushed a bit and shyly avoided her gaze. She wondered if he had any idea how cute he was.

"I...I mean..." Sighing deeply, he took her hands in his, looking down at them. "I didn't mean that you weren't amazing from the beginning. You were. And still are. We were open to each other in the beginning about this not being serious and just having fun, but..." He swallowed with difficulty. Dear Merlin this was hard!

He was so caught up in his own world that he didn't notice her widened eyes and the hope shining there. She had wanted to ask him for a more exclusive arrangement but hadn't known how to broach the subject, not to mention she had been nervous. Seriously though. Just look at him. He could have any woman he wanted and still he was with her. She liked to have fun and had initially agreed to his open relationship suggestion, thinking it would be fun to try it. She'd quickly found out that just thinking of him with another woman made her jealous. Not wanting to upset the status-quo, she had swallowed her fears. When she'd poured out her heart to Henry, one of the administrators of the university, he had greatly improved her mood by pointing out that despite their 'open' arrangement, Blaise hadn't been out with anybody else. And Henry would know. He was the resident gossip queen on campus. If there was even a hint of a rumour, he would know.

"But what?" She whispered, trying to keep her hopes under control. He could be unpredictable at times and maybe he wasn't trying to say what she hoped he was going to.

"But...would you..." He closed his eyes, breathed deep to then meet her eyes again. "I want us to be exclusive. I really like you. You are fun and smart and...amazing." He laughed nervously and a bit out of breath. She wasn't reacting or talking. "So...would that be something you would want as well?" He tried catching her gaze, though her eyes were unfocused.  
"Jane?" His breath hitched a bit. Would this make her leave him? He hadn't really been his normal suave self. And he'd had everything laid out in his mind too! On their way home he'd prepared an eloquent and compelling argument to plead his case. When he'd looked into her eyes though, it had all flown right out. Nervous he licked his lips. She was still staring. Opening his mouth to continue his pleading, he was surprised when she grabbed his face in her hands, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. Caught off guard, but taking it, he shrugged mentally and returned the kiss.

"Yes. I want us to be exclusive." She breathed in between kisses, diving back in. Growling in approval, he pulled her tighter to him, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest. The need for oxygen forced him to stop the kiss, though he didn't want to. Leaning his brow to hers, he felt light and an unrestrained happiness bubbling up in him. Framing her face in his hands, he got lost in her eyes.

"I love you." He breathed, surprising himself. His mind was racing. He'd never said the L-word before. Would she be okay with it? Was it the right time? He had no frame of reference. But it had felt right. Right? He wasn't drunk. They weren't having sex. He hadn't thrown it out during a fight to end it...considering the circumstances and his very limited experience he believed he'd done everything right. Right? But why wasn't she saying anything? Wasn't she supposed to reply? To say that she loved him too? His rampant thoughts froze as she kissed him again, impossibly deeper and more passionate than before. Stumped he was at a loss for what to say when she withdrew from him. Grasping his tie, she pulled him along as she slowly backed up towards his bedroom.

"I love you too." She whispered, stars in her eyes. Blowing out a breath he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding, he closed in on her, hauled her over his shoulder, eliciting laughter from her. Grinning brightly himself, he lengthened his stride. This was the best night of his life!

xXx

Tumbling out of the fire place, she elegantly straightened her posture and waved her wand to clean off the almost non-existant soot from her elegant clothes. Looking around, she noted that it was night. Sighing she sheathed her wand and righted her clothes. Striding through the apartment, she noted the fine furniture and art. She guessed it was nice enough. Not a manor or villa, but nice enough. Striding through the apartment, she looked at the objets d'art scattered throughout. He'd always had a knack for picking out beautiful pieces. Hearing giggling, she raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulled at her lips. Oh this was going to be fun!

Opening the door to what turned out to be his bedroom, she watched him tussle with a petite ginger. She was surprised he hadn't been blinded by that milky white skin. Dear Circe! How much did that poor girl spend on sunblock?! Positioning herself at the end of the bed, she observed his technique. She was proud that he paid attention to that girl. Speaking of, apparently the girl was more aware than him, since she pushed him off a bit and met her gaze. Smiling, she waved at the ginger. Predictably this didn't elicit a kind greeting, but a scream. Grinning, she wasn't put off. The ginger covered herself and he turned to her with wide eyes.

"Mother?!" Surprise and outrage in equal measure in his voice.

"Hello tesoro. My, you are looking fine." She greeted.

"Blaise!" The ginger hissed, still clutching the blanket to her chest. Lucrecia looked to her, raising an eyebrow.

"No need to feel shy, dear. Nothing I haven't seen before. Though I have to say, you have beautiful skin." She commented, noting how Blaise covered his face with his hands.

"Mother. Could you **please** step out?" He ground out, trying to calm down his girl. Snickering she inclined her head.

"Of course, tesoro. It was nice meeting you." She waved at the ginger and left the room, closing the door behind her. Chuckling she moved down the hall, already hearing the argument breaking out in the bedroom. Making her way to the kitchen, she pondered how likely it was the ginger would stay. Blaise seemed to think her special. Let's see how special that girl truly was.

 **AN:** Sorry for the absence. I know where I want the story to go, but some of the pieces aren't fitting properly. I am still figuring it out. Additionally, RL has come back with a vengeance. Almost my entire family is having their birthdays now, so I am almost constantly on the road currently. Add in work and I have little time to settle down and write. :(  
Tesoro is Italian for darling, or treasured one. Hope you enjoyed Lucrecia's entrance. ;P See you around and have a great one!


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Hermione was moving as if on a cloud on Monday morning when she made her way over campus. The walk on the beach had ended with them apparating to her neighbourhood and him walking her all the way to her building. Their discussion had turned to more innocent and less weighty topics. They had quoted passages of their favourite books to each other and at one point, he had recited a poem to her. She had only understood parts of it, due to him doing it in French, but it had still moved her. He could talk to her in French any day. Especially while holding her hand and looking into her eyes. Just the memory alone had her dreamily sighing and needing to lean to the door she'd just pushed open.

"Coming through!" The strident voice jarred her from her serene recollection. Blinking she looked down the hall, only to see Jane walking fast towards the Lounge. Frowning, Hermione let go of the door and followed. Entering the Lounge, she greeted a slightly wide-eyed Jagger, who was almost sprinting out. By now she was starting to worry. Their couples evening had been such a success! What could have gone wrong? She crossed the Lounge to the two chairs and bookcase that had become their corner. Jane was slamming her books and notes on the table, organising her materials for her lecture. At least that was what she normally did. Currently it seemed she only slammed the books around in order to air her feelings.

"Jane?" Hermione asked softly. Jane's green eyes flashed as she looked up.

"What!" Jane bit out. Jerking her head back, Hermione decided to proceed cautiously.

"Nothing. Just...wondering how your weekend was." She put down her bag, making sure her wand was just a flick of her wrist away. With a last bang of a book Jane turned to her.

"Oh my weekend was swell!" She said loudly with a fake smile plastered on her face, which made Hermione a little uncomfortable. "Who wouldn't be thrilled that right in the middle of making love to your boyfriend, who just confessed his love for you, said boyfriend's mother drops in. And not like saying hello and both of you scrambling for clothes so that she won't see you naked. No. She came right into his bedroom! And instead of making her leave, he got up, made her cappucino and talked to her as if nothing was wrong!" Breathing heavily, Jane rubbed her face. "I've never been so humiliated." She murmured. Heroically Hermione kept her laughter at bay, though keeping a straight face proved to be a challenge. Jane turned to her, taking Hermione in, narrowing her eyes.

"Are you laughing?" She asked in challenge. Biting her lips, Hermione shook her head, widening her eyes to convey an expression of innocence. The trapped chuckles in her chest were constricting her throat. Soon she wouldn't be able to help herself and laugh, just to be able to breathe.

"You think that's funny?" Jane went on. Hermione shook her head again, a snort making it past her constricted throat.

"No." She managed to get out, though it sounded breathy. Despite Jane's best efforts to remain mad, Hermione's expression had the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Don't you dare laugh." Jane admonished, though she herself felt the need to laugh by now.

"I won't." Hermione responded. Her voice squeaky. They stared at each other and within moments, the tension broke. Both of them laughing loudly. Plopping down into their seats, they caught their breath. Hermione even had to dab at her eyes due to a few tears having leaked out.

"His mother? Really?" Hermione asked eager to know more. Jane rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

"Yeah. I mean he warned me right in the beginning when we started dating, but I never thought that he was telling me the truth! Since she'd come over from Europe, she wasn't tired and wanted to talk or go out. When I tried to leave, she told me to stay so we could get to know each other. And Blaise didn't even protest!" Sighing she leaned back. "He correctly pointed out that she wouldn't let up and it would be better to just ride it out. All day yesterday was spent in uncomfortable conversations with Lucrecia Zabini. I come from a catholic family and few people can make you as guilty or uncomfortable as catholic mothers, but Blaise's mother was giving mine a run for her money."

Hermione felt for Jane, but she couldn't help herself. It was such an unusual situation. Almost like a comedy.

"So you met his mother. Will you return the favour and introduce him to your parents?" She asked with a cheeky smile. Jane snorted and shook her head.

"No! I prefer him with his teeth intact. My father and brothers would insist on getting him alone for a few hours. Blaise is a good duellist, but that won't save him I fear. And my mother...she'll start being judgmental, but as I know Blaise, he'll charm her into submission. Something I would have loved to have been able to do with his mother yesterday." She grumbled. Hermione frowned.

"But you are a great person! What's not to like?"

Jane shrugged, picking at her jacket and looking at her lap.

"Beats me. From the way she treated me, I felt like a servant or a waiter. 'Jane. Be a dear and get me a cappucino. Be a dear and get me some grapes. Be a dear and fetch my cloak.' All day long! And Blaise didn't say a word! I don't know what to make of it. He says he loves me and then..."

Sitting up straight, Hermione stopped Jane by waving her hands.

"Wowowo. Stop. He told you he loved you?" She asked with a bright smile. Jane flushed, grinning and nodded. Bubbling with excitement, Hermione took her hand and let loose a rather undignified squee. "Oh my god! Jane. That's huge." She enthused.

"Yeah...I was hoping for something exclusive, but I never expected that. He was so sweet about it too. Not smooth at all, but shy and cute and..." Sighing with a smile, Jane leaned back, her eyes unfocused. Remembering. "It was all I could ever hope for. I told him I loved him too and...things progressed. And then his mother ruins it all!" While Jane furrowed her brow, Hermione had once more clamp her mouth shut to keep from laughing.

"Blaise is her only son. Of course she'll give you a hard time." Hermione tried to put Ms Zabini's behaviour in perspective.

"I guess you're right. You should have seen Terry Ruben when he picked me up for my prom. To this day, I don't know what my father said to him, but he couldn't get me back home fast enough afterwards." Jane said with a far-away look in her eyes. "He even broke the speed limit. I almost had to jump from the car. He didn't stop all the way. Just kind of rolled along the curb." She illustrated with a wave of her hand. Hermione's snort had her focus again. "What about you? Did your father do stuff like that? I mean, he must have. You don't have any siblings, so his reaction must have been off the charts."

"No, not really." Hermione waved it off. "There wasn't a prom night at Hogwarts. We had a Yule Ball once and while my date wrote to my parents, they didn't really have the option to give him a hard time. They live in Hampstead Garden near London while Hogwarts is all the way up in Scottland. And Victor still makes an effort to stay in touch. Though we are not seeing each other any more. He is a good friend." She smiled.

"Wait. You're still in contact with this Victor guy and **he's** still in contact with your parents? Sounds as if he is still interested." Jane pointed out. Snorting Hermione waved it off.

"No. He's happily married by now and has two children. We're good friends, that's all."

Jane still looked sceptical but decided to let it go.

"Anyway. Apparently I am to go shopping with Lucrecia today. Ugh! I don't even like shopping all that much! Ever since I discovered muggle online shopping I almost exclusively do that. It saves so much time! And I don't get lured into buying dresses and shirts doing nothing for me, just because the shop attendant is on commission." She flopped back into her seat, staring at the ceiling.

"Don't worry. Ms Zabini would never let you get anything that wouldn't flatter you. Blaise has an excellent sense of style and I assume he got that from his mother."

"She does. For all her horrid behaviour, that woman knows how to dress. And you'd never believe she is in her fifties when looking at her. I'll be lucky to look half as good as her when I hit fifty."

While they continued to discuss the awkward Sunday Jane had had, Draco had entered the Lounge, looking for Hermione. His Sunday had been spent in extensive planning concerning his courtship of her. While at Theo's bar, he had managed to get a few details out of Ginevra Potter and surprisingly she had been open to answer questions he'd had about how to make the dating experience everything Hermione ever wanted. He had sent flowers to her yesterday along with a selfmade card he'd taken meticulous care in writing. His mother would have been proud of the calligraphy. Even with his practiced penmanship it had taken him an hour and a half. But Hermione was worth it. The rest was spent checking into the different venues and events around Salem and Boston. He wanted their next date to be memorable and romantic. And he wanted to take her out and for himself as soon as possible. Looking at her he smiled. Traversing the Lounge, he stopped and greeted both women with a bow.

"Ms. O'Brian, Hermione." Both looked up at him and his own, small smile grew. He didn't even care that he was blushing a bit, since Hermione was too. All day he'd been giddy and felt as if he floated along. Despite him not being able to sleep, he felt energised and refreshed.

"Hello." Hermione greeted him, her voice low, shyly not meeting his eyes. Jane took them in and couldn't help the nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of her lips. If she didn't know better, she would say they were teenagers. The way they acted was more in line with what she'd observed and done herself during her high school years. She guessed it was only natural. From what little Hermione and Draco had told her, their teenage years had been spent fighting in a war and there hadn't been any time for them to flirt or sigh wistfully while staring out windows, imagining their perfect dates and/or boyfriends/girlfriends. She was happy for Hermione to get this opportunity. She was still a little on the fence about Malfoy, but he had made some strides and his efforts to apologise to her had not gone without an effect on her. She was also heartened that he was seeking professional help.

"Hi Draco. Have you heard the good news? Blaise's mother is in town." She said with the most sarcastic tone she could manage. His reaction surprised her though. His eyes bugged and he turned to the door and windows.

"What? Where is she now? Does she know I'm here?" His voice was a little panicked. Both women stared at him.

"Last I saw her she was grinning smugly at me, while nibbling on a croissant in Blaise's apartment. She said something about wanting to take a stroll through town." Jane answered.

"Ooh...Salazar's shorts..." His eyes lost focus. He whirled to Hermione. "Hide me." He begged. By now both women were close to laughter.

"Hide you? Why?" Hermione asked. Sighing he pulled over a chair and sat.

"You have no idea what taking a stroll means for Lucrecia Zabini. Hours of window shopping, having to stand there all the time at her beck and call. Listening to her sarcastic commentary; though that's not that much of a hardship since it is very entertaining. But the **hours** spent at stores. The monotony of having to look at clothes and listening to insipid clatsch of who's sleeping with whom and why that is such a scandal and that one of them could do so much better. Trust me. In addition she insists on treating not only Blaise, but also me, as if we're five years old!" He kept checking both the windows and the doors, as if expecting Lucrecia to enter through either at any moment.

"Relax, Draco. I am sure that Blaise wouldn't take her to campus." Hermione tried to calm him. He turned to her with a snort.

"Blaise won't have a choice. Rules do not apply to Lucrecia, Hermione. No one stops her. Nothing, really. Stand in her way and be prepared to be bowled over." He tried to make her understand, holding her hands and gazing at her with wide eyes. Biting her lip, she nodded, trying to calm him down.

"Draco!" The strange voice cut through the quiet conversations had in the Lounge with ease. Draco's entire body stiffened.

"Kill me now." He begged her. Shaking her head, Hermione turned with a smile to the source of his distress. Jane hadn't been lying. Lucrecia Zabini didn't look a day over thirty. Her elegant robes accentuated her bronze skin and her dark, black hair hung in artfully dishevelled ringlets down her back. Jewels and gold were glittering on her fingers. As one of the other professors rose to ask her who she was and what she was doing here, she patted him on the shoulder and the cheek.

"Aren't you a dear." Wafted over to them, as she strode through the Lounge, scattering professors right and left.

"Please!" Draco turned to them again, his grip on Hermione's hands now tight.

"I fear it's too late. She saw you coming in." Hermione pointed out. With a sigh he deflated a bit and then the object of his terror was there.

"Draco! Darling! Look at you. Come here." Lucrecia waved with both her hands, reaching out for a hug. Sighing again, giving in to his doom, he rose and stepped into her arms. She didn't let him go though, but proceeded to press kisses to his cheeks. Three times. And all through it, Draco did a remarkably bad job of covering up his put-upon expression. Jane kept as silent as possible in the hopes that Lucrecia would overlook her. It was too much to hope for, of course. That woman missed nothing.

"Hello Jane. You look absolutely quaint today." Lucrecia said with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling. Jane's nostrils flared, while her lips stretched in a fake smile.

"Hello Ms Zabini." She pressed through her teeth. Lucrecia winked and turned her attention to the third member of the group. Her tesoro had told her that little Miss Granger had grown into her figure. Everyone had been so surprised when the girl turned heads at the Yule Ball. She hadn't been surprised. She'd always known that with a little effort and a few hair potions Miss Granger would come into her own. Taking Granger's hands in her own, she looked her over. Oh yes. Much better than those frocks the poor girl used to wear. And finally someone told the poor thing how to tame that mop of hair.

"Oh Miss Granger! It is such a pleasure to meet you at last. Blaise has told me so much about you. And I of course read about your many achievements in the papers." She gushed, while Hermione started blushing.

"Thank you Ms Zabini. That is very kind of you to say."

"Oh pish-posh, call me Lucrecia." She invited, noting with a grin that Jane sat up straighter. Oh, sometimes it was just too easy. "I must say that this is a serendipidous turn of events. Here I came to invite Draco out for a bite to eat and here you are! We simply **have** to get together, my dear. And you must tell me where you got those darling shoes."

Hermione opened her mouth to decline the offer, but she was at a loss of what to say. She didn't want to appear rude. If she'd ever had doubts about Draco being her knight in shining armour, he dispelled them now.

"I am sorry, Lucrecia, but unfortunately that isn't possible. Both Hermione and I have to work today. Maybe another time." Draco advised her. Pouting Lucrecia turned from one to the other.

"Such a shame. Tonight then. Tata." Waving magnanimously, Lucrecia swept from the Lounge. Everyone was quiet, staring at the door through which she had left.

"Have fun tonight." Jane said to Hermione with a smirk and patted her shoulder. "I would say I'd love to come along, but I would be lying. Tata." Waving as well, she shouldered her bag and left as well. Turning to Draco, Hermione stared at him with wide eyes.

"Is she truly expecting us to have dinner with her tonight?" She whispered. She wasn't sure how to deal with the glamorous Lucrecia Zabini. Draco took her hands in his, kissing her knuckles.

"No. I will talk to her later, declining on both our behalves, since we already have plans tonight." He explained with a smile. A smile that had her blushing and responding with one of her own.

"We do?" She asked, biting her lower lip and linking their hands. Nodding in assent, stepping closer and even purring a little, he softly tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

"Indeed we do. A romantic dinner at _La sorciére_ and afterwards I have tickets for 'Obsidian Tear' at the Bostons Opera House." He knew he'd made the right decision when her eyes lit up.

"Oh that sounds wonderful!"

"My pleasure. May I pick you up at six?"

Pulling his head down, she placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"You may. I will look forward to it." Letting go of him despite not wanting to, she left the Lounge slowly, turning her head to look back at the door. He remained where she'd left him. His eyes on her. Blushing and smiling she turned around with a spring in her step. She had to text Ginny to come over later and help her pick out a dress. Good thing that both her and Harry were still in the States.

xXx

With a smile Draco watched her leave, blushing so prettily. Good thing he'd made those plans last night. Breathing deep, he made his way out of the building. His step was light and a relaxed smile on his face. The sun was bright and it seemed as if the colours were brighter. As he traversed the quad, a tall man from campus security approached him.

"Professor Malfoy. We were alerted about unauthorized access to the duelling gym on Saturday night. As per your instructions we've held the students over the weekend." He reported. Draco nodded. When Dean McPherson had discovered that one of the gym keys was unaccounted for, Blaise had spelled the doors to trip with a silent alarm and Draco had collaborated with the firm who had provided the training dummies for them to patrol at night and activate when the wards set by Blaise were tripped. They'd tested it by removing Draco's magic signature from the list of authorised entrants after hours. It had worked like a charm and the company had thanked them for providing them with a new idea. An idea they had made sure they recived a stake of thirty percent in each. They were Slytherins after all and a profit was to be made.

When he'd been on his way home, he'd turned his cell phone back on and immediately seen that campus security had tried to contact him multiple times. Calling them back, he'd given his instructions.

"Has the dean protested?" Draco asked. The security guard smiled minimally and shook his head.

"No, sir. Each of the students currently in holding have extensive records. The dean thought it a character building experience for all of them." Sharing a smirk, both men headed off to the offices of campus security. Passing by the counter and the guard offices, they made their way straight to the single holding cell the guards had and which was much too small to house sixteen young, muscular men. One of the dishevelled youths pushed his way to the front of the lounging and leaning youths.

"I will have your job for this! Do you have any idea who I am?!"

Draco and the guard looked at each other, shared an amused snort and the guard left. Draco turned back to the fuming young man behind bars.

"I do know who you are, Mr Thornwood, and I cannot help but wonder what you and your friends were doing in my duelling gym after hours not being part of the duelling team." All levity had left Draco's face and he curiously tilted his head, letting some of his darkness leak through. He knew young men like Aster Thornwood well, since he used to be him. A good scare wouldn't hurt and it might even improve that imbeciles character somewhat.

"You can't keep us out of that gym. We have as much right to be there. We are the Salem duelling team." Aster tried to sound confident, but the coldness seeping into the room, seeming to originate from the ponce on the other side of the bars chipped away his bravado. The others in the cell with him threw furtive glances at the intimidating figure of Professor Malfoy in his elegant suit and forbidding mien. No help there.

"How interesting. I seem to remember dismantling the old team. You might remember too, since you were at the try-outs. And you didn't make the cut. The new team has been accepted by the Circuit committee and has participated in a competition. I somehow must have missed you being there." Draco answered in a slow drawl, never breaking eye contact and not blinking. It had been a game they'd played in the Slytherin dungeons. There it had been a game, but they'd all known that in the outside world, it was an effective intimidation technique. Draco had the added bonus of having an usual eye colour, which apparently could make people uncomfortable.

As expected, the Thornwood boy wasn't able to hold his gaze for any amount of time and seemed to collapse in on himself. Taking a look at the others while still maintaining what Blaise had lovingly dubbed Draco's 'Snape-face', he saw that none of these man-children posessed a spine or would make any more trouble. At least for now.

"Each of you will receive a reprimand and the Dean will be contacting your parents, since each of you will be fined. Not by the university, but by the Salem court, as all of you were breaking and entering."

This roused the entire group. Fearful eyes were turned on him, most only realising now that this time they wouldn't get away with a slap on the wrist.

"I wouldn't be surprised if some of you were expelled. Have a nice day." Draco smirked, inclining his head and left.

xXx

Jamal was sitting in the common room going over his study materials and the essay he'd gotten back from Professor Granger. He had been proud when he'd spied the B+ on the front. He'd worked hard for it and it had involved long study sessions with his fellow Southies and Francis. He couldn't thank that guy enough. Whenever any of them had trouble with a topic or needed tutoring, Francis was right there and willing to pull as many hours as needed. And as the weeks passed, others joined them as well. LoreleI most often. Sometimes Sabrina, though that was rare, since both James and Keisha didn't really like her. Emilio didn't really care and Francesca had joined him in that state. At times she would simply go along with Keisha due to their long time friendship.

"Hey there." He was pulled from his thoughts by Francis. Smiling Jamal made room for him on the couch.

"Hey you. Look at this." Proudly he held up his paper. Francis smiled brightly and clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's great! I knew you could do it."

Jamal shrugged, looking down at the paper.

"Couldn't have done it without you. I owe you."

Blushing Francis waved it off. Throwing a furtive look around the room, he leaned closer to Jamal, who was getting a bit worried now.

"Maybe you could give me a few pointers?" Francis asked in a low voice.

"Pointers? For what?" Jamal was a bit confused. Francis was academically the most accomplished here.

"Well...You've known Keisha a long time...and...you'd know...what she might like?" Francis' voice was tentative and he was by now wringing his hands. Surprised Jamal sat back. Not about Francis' question, since he'd noticed that he and Keisha had gotten closer, but that it seemed as Francis would take the first step.

"She likes dancing, baseball, comedies, but no romcoms. Do you mean like that?" Jamal asked slowly. Eagerly Francis nodded, shuffling a bit closer.

"Yeah. I...I was thinking of asking her out, if that's OK." He ended in a flushed whisper. Jamal smiled brightly.

"Of course that's OK. Why wouldn't it be? You're a great guy." Jamal tried to cheer him up. Francis shrugged, blushing again.

"You're close. I just wanted to make sure you were OK with it. If I asked her out, I mean." He stumbled. Jamal grinned and held Francis' shoulder in a soft grip.

"I'm completely OK with it. You're a great guy." Despite wanting to make Francis feel more comfortable, he felt a bit awkward. He wasn't related to Keisha and this felt like a brother discussion. It seemed though to be what Francis needed to hear, since he breathed easier and smiled a bit.

"Thanks. It means a lot to me. I wouldn't want anything to be awkward." Francis clapped Jamal on the shoulder and rose. Taking the steps to the upper floors in a carefree, light jog, Francis was nervous and excited at the same time. He already had a good idea what he wanted to do. Time to make preparations.

xXx

A tornado had torn through Hermione's closet and spewed its contents all around her bedroom. In the middle of it, Hermione sat on the floor, clutching a dark blue, silk wrap dress. Nervous, wide eyes were trained on the chuckling red-head leaning to her closet door.

"I have nothing to wear!" Hermione exclaimed crestfallen, her brow wrinkled in despair. Ginny was doing her best not to laugh, while Jane promptly turned back around towards the living room instead of coming in. Both women could tell that this date was very important to Hermione, but both had underestimated the sheer amount of nervous panic that had crept up in their normally level headed friend. That took nothing away from Hermione's fretting being highly entertaining. Biting their lips, they threw each other a glance, resolved not to laugh and make their friend miserable.

Patting Hermione on the shoulder, Ginny softly tugged the dress out of her hands.

"Don't worry, Hermione. We've got your back." She soothed. Clearing her throat, Jane nodded.

"Yep. Draco won't know what hit him. When we're done, you're gonna knock his socks off." She said with confidence. Wide-eyed Hermione took them both in, a desperate shimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Promise?" She asked in a low voice. Nodding seriously and barely keeping their mirth in check, Ginny and Jane started once again sorting through the scattered fabric.

 **AN:** Dating time! *Squee!* :P Hope you are still enjoying. More mayhem to come. ;) I love Lucrecia! :P Have a great one!


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Draco had never been this nervous before a date. It was a date. He'd gone it over in his head and there was no mistaking it. During a cell phone conversation with Blaise, while Draco had been raiding his closet for something appropriate to wear, he'd asked his best friend and he had concurred. And Blaise had to know. He had been the undisputed emperor of daters after all. His flippant comments about calming the fuck down and taking a few shots of firewhiskey to calm his nerves were not appreciated though. How crass would it be to greet his lady with alcohol on his breath?! The thought alone had Draco shudder.

No. He was sober, eager and maybe clutching the bouquet of flowers he'd gotten as a gift a bit too tight. But then, this was a very important moment! It could very well be a turning point in his life. Maybe, for once, life would look up for him. He still didn't truly believe himself worthy of her, but if she was willing to give it a shot, who was he to turn her down?

Patting his coat pocket for the fifth time, he made sure that the portkey to Boston was safely there. It would deposit them directly inside the Boston Opera House. They had a special room for magical arrivals. Tapping his foot, he waited for the elevator, rolling his shoulders and breathing deep.

"Hi there!" A quirky voice behind him had him jerk, since he was imagining how the date was going to go and fantasizing about her maybe letting him kiss her when he'd escorted her home. Turning his head, he caught sight of a young witch with dishevelled brown hair and two shopping bags in her arms. Her eyes looked him up and down in a way he found slightly invasive.

"Hello?" Draco returned carefully. She sidled up close to him, pushing the button again for the elevator. He'd never understood this annoying habit people had. Even Blaise did it. When questioned he claimed it would make the elevator arrive faster. No matter how many times Draco corrected him, Blaise still persisted, though Draco believed that by now he only did it to piss him off.

"Haven't seen you here before. New neighbour?" She asked. Giving a non-committal smile, he shook his head.

"No. I am here to pick up..." His girlfriend? No. Not yet...soon. Hopefully. "My date. She lives here."

Her eyes seemed to dim a bit at his revelation.

"That's nice. The English woman on the fourth floor, right?"

He felt uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking, but since he'd been raised to always be polite to a woman he couldn't find a way to end it. In an effort to not encourage more, he only nodded and made a humming noise. The elevator arrived with a ding and he breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as he'd turned after pushing the button for the fourth floor, he chastised himself for being so stupid. Of course she would get on the elevator too.

"She's nice, I guess. Kind of standoffish, you know? But she brought by cookies when she moved in. Better than my old neighbour, I tell you." She continued her monologue to Draco's chagrin. He'd hoped for a slightly awkard elevator ride, but apparently that was too much to ask. While the strange woman nattered on, he reserved himself to only humming or moving his head in a negative or positive nod whenever appropriate. As the doors opened on the fourth floor, he basically fled, his step regaining its spring as he neared her door. Swallowing and checking his hair, he straightened his jacket again. Raising his fist, he cleared his throat, checked his watch to make sure he wasn't late and knocked. His bright smile dimmed a bit when the door was not opened by Hermione, but by Ginny Potter.

"Hey there handsome." Her eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Mrs Potter." Draco greeted politely, though he wanted to push her aside and look for Hermione. Smirking she moved back and invited him in with a wave of her hand.

"Do come in. Hermione will be out in a moment."

Nodding he entered Hermione's apartment and looked around with interest. It was furnished in soft earthy tones, eliciting a relaxed atmosphere. A colourful caftan rested on the back of her couch and he could imagine her sitting on the couch with the caftan over her legs, reading, without a problem. The small couch table next to the end of the couch she seemed to prefer was piled high with books she seemed to be reading at the moment. Interested he leaned down a bit to read the titles. Some potions and charms books, a biography of Luthor Lindwright, one of the first wizards to settle in the US and other books he didn't know. He assumed they were muggle titles. They intrigued him too. 'The universe in a nutshell' seemed interesting. He had to ask about that.

When he heard a step behind him, he turned with a smile, hoping to see Hermione, but again he was disappointed. Jane had appeared from the hallway leading further into the apartment. Stretching his neck, he tried to furtively glance behind her in an effort to spy his lady. Ginny pulling roughly at his arm and into the kitchen put an end to that though.

"She is going to be ready in a minute. Why don't we talk a bit, hm?" Her lips smiled, but her eyes were hard. Swallowing Draco realised that Mrs Potter was going to give him the mother treatment. As Hermione's own parents were absent, she seemed to have taken the responsibility for interrogating the hopeful date. Clearing his throat and trying for a smile, he nodded.

"Of course. How are Mr Potter and your children?" He tried to deflect. Knowing from experience that most mothers couldn't resist an opportunity to brag about their children and their accomplishments. Ginny Potter wasn't as easily distracted though. Shaking her head while giving him a pitiying glance, she leaned to the kitchen island.

"Really, Malfoy? Asking about my family? You know Harry is doing great, since you saw and duelled him and you also know that my oldest is at Hogwarts while the others are enjoying some vacation time with their grandparents. Now, would you like to try and distract me with something else?"

He blushed and tried to find something, anything to ask her. While he could appreciate Mrs Potter looking out for her best friend, he felt uncomfortable discussing anything that was going on between Hermione and him with her. What right did she have?

"No." He pushed out between gritted teeth. "What would you like to know?" He met her eyes head on, all insecurity falling off him. He had been slouching a bit in an effort not to tower too much over Mrs Potter. No longer. He stood straight, his head raised high. Looking at him like this, Ginny easily remembered the 'old' Draco Malfoy. Arrogant, petty scion of one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain. There was no question about him cutting an imposing figure in his black, knee length coat with chinese collar, dark blue vest embroidered with silver and black slacks. Dragonhide boots and a pristine white shirt completed the look. He looked every inch the powerful business man he was. At the same time Ginny was a bit surprised to find a niggle of jealousy. Harry had never dressed this formally when picking her up for a date or dinner. Formal for him meant a muggle suit, no tie. The only special suit, which Hermione had informed her was called a tuxedo, her husband had worn at their wedding. Would it kill him to take a page out of Malfoy's book in the wardrobe department? She was happily married, but hot damn, that man could look fine. Minus the scowl on his face. She was also surprised to notice that it no longer had the same effect on her as it had in the past. While she wouldn't have admitted it on the threat of death, or spending an afternoon knitting with her mother, Ginny had been honestly intimidated by Malfoy while they were in school. Not anymore. Speaking to Hermione over the last few days and spending some time with Malfoy as well, she'd learned an interesting thing. Draco Malfoy indeed possessed morals! And wasn't that a surprise.

"I would like to know where you intend to take this." She asked, meeting his stare. She'd had staring contests with her brothers for years. This was simply more of the same. Boys and their stupid competitions. It worked wonders on her kids too. James and Albus knew they were in trouble when she held their stares and they wanted to prove how grown-up they were. Even Harry tried it from time to time. She had learned well from her mother though. It was all in keeping a relaxed stance and seeming bored. Judging from his frown and slight confusion in his eyes, it worked once again. Score for Molly Weasley's wisdom.

"I am not certain what you mean. What do I intend to take where?" He asked, raising his chin a bit in an effort to assert his dominance by using his height. He wasn't even consciously aware of it. Jane had joined them and snorted.

"Oh please! You're smart and all. Where do you intend to take your relationship with Hermione and what are your intentions towards her?" She filled in, while Ginny nodded. Now Draco was faced with both women leaning to the kitchen island, staring him down. He was beyond confused why his stare was not having the desired effect. If he stopped and thought about it a minute, he surely would have figured out that trying to stare down the only girls in big families dominated by males was doomed to fail. Breaking eye contact, he looked around the cheery kitchen, filled with gleaming appliances he only now could put names to, as he'd purchased them himself in an effort to learn to cook and impress Hermione. The gleaming counters and steel appliances much the same he had. No wonder she'd seemed to be so familiar with his when she'd assisted him in the preparation of the brunch. Closing his eyes, he decided to take the plunge and respond honestly. He had nothing to loose and everything to win.

"Wherever she wants it to go. Of course I would like it to develop into a romantic and permanent relationship, but that is not up to me. Hermione deserves everything and I'll do my best to give it to her. And no, I am not talking about only the material. That would be easy." Sighing he looked up. Both Ginny's and Jane's expressions had softened. "I want her to be happy. If that means being with me...I'd be thrilled. If not..." He swallowed, not truly prepared to deal with that eventuality. "Then I will learn to live with it and be her friend." He nodded at the end, not just to confirm it to the ladies, but also in an effort to convince himself. He would do his utmost to be her friend, no matter how much it would hurt. But before any of that could happen, he would do his best to convince her that he was the right one. Their kisses and affections exchanged had always been under the influence of alcohol. Something he wanted to remedy tonight. While they might share a bottle or two of wine during dinner, the ensuing visit to the Opera House would make sure that both were sober when he escorted her home. And then he would know. Whether the disinhibiting effects of alcohol were responsible for their chemistry or it was simply them. He tended towards them, judging from the back-and-forth they'd been doing, but he wanted to make sure. For her. He didn't want her to wake up one morning and question their entire relationship.

"That's a beautiful sentiment. Stick to it." Ginny's voice roused him from his thoughts. Both her and Jane's eyes were a bit glassy.

"Ginny! Who was at the door? If it was Heather, you can tell her she can have my rotisserie some other time!" Hermione called out, while putting in her earrings and walking into the kitchen. Draco was stunned. She wore a beautiful, dark blue silk wrap dress, cinched on her left hip. The overlapping fabric allowing her freedom of movement and an enticing view of her legs. It fell to just below her knees, her feet encased in matching high heels, giving her a few extra inches. A voluminous sleeve covered her left arm, while her right was bare. The dress held up by a strap. A modest neckline was accentuated by a sparkling silver and diamond necklace. The tinkling of golden bangles on her right arm accompanied each of her movements. Her hair was partly pulled up, leaving the majority to fall in soft curls over her shoulders and back. Subtle make-up accentuating her eyes and the hoop earrings she was in the process of putting in completed her look. And she looked gorgeous. Elegant. Just like that, his palms were sweaty once again.

Grinning Jane swept her hand out towards Draco.

"Your date's here." She said with a twinkle in her eyes. With big eyes, Hermione turned to him and instantly a blush appeared. Her mouth was dry and all the greetings and smooth conversation openers she'd practised over the last few hours flew from her head. He'd pulled the bangs of his hair back and then gathered the rest into a pony tail held in place with an elaborately crafted silver ring, engraved with ancient runes that had her itching to look at it in detail. And the rest of him...she smoothed down her dress in an effort to keep her hands to herself. With his posture and looks he looked sophisticated, sexy and absolutely edible. She wanted to peel him out of those clothes and make him loose that poise and reserve. She nibbled her lower lip imagining him abandoning his manners and making desperate, hot love to her. Maybe reading a few chapters of her latest guilty pleasure romance novel wasn't such a good idea. But seeing him in her kitchen, looking all alpha male and delicious, she couldn't help herself.

Swallowing to find his voice, his hands once more sweaty, he raised the bouquet of amaryllis, white carnations and gardenias, topped with an orchid.

"You look breathtaking." He offered in a soft voice. It was simply the truth. Cradling his flowers, she gave him a shy smile and delicately sniffed them.

"They are beautiful. Thank you."

He grinned at her praise and stood taller. Inclining his head, he tried to fight down the blush in his cheeks.

"It is my pleasure. Are you ready?" He was eager to start their evening and to get out from under the eyes of both Jane and Ginny. Nodding Hermione pulled a crystal vase from a cupboard and set the flowers in water.

"Yes, I am ready." Turning to her friends, Hermione bit her lips a bit. "Thanks. For everything." She breathed. Ginny patted her shoulder and Jane winked. Both women could see how nervous Hermione was. Despite having known Draco since childhood, their relationship had changed radically in the intervening years. Additionally Hermione wasn't experienced when it came to dating. During her teenage years there had only been Ron and for a brief interlude until they decided they were better off as friends, Viktor. From the end of the wizarding war until about two years ago, there had once again been Ron and since they'd basically grown up together and survived a war, they didn't date as much as simple dive right into the relationship. After Ron she'd only had a handful of dates, which had often been organised by friends and the odd man asking her out on his own. None of those had seemed promising. This was completely different. The platonic friendship she had with Draco was well established and in the last few weeks she'd discovered so much more to him. There was promise there. A promise of something good and lasting. Obstacles were there too, of course. But his offer of the potion to rid her of her hated scar showed her that her main concern, that he hadn't changed as much as she'd hoped, was unfounded.

Donning a soft cashmere shawl in matching blue over her shoulders, Hermione grabbed her purse and turned at the door. Jane and Ginny were at the end of the hallway and Draco was next to her. Both women gave her a reassuring nod and smiles, while Ginny even shooed her on with a movement of her hands. Draco caught it, but refrained from a comment. He wasn't insulted or worried by Hermione's hesitance. He understood only too well. He was nervous too and it reassured him that he wasn't alone in this.

xXx

The restaurant had reserved the same room for them in which they'd dined before. A fact Hermione appreciated, since she'd loved it before. The food was just as delicious and this time she made sure to leave room for the créme caramel. Their discussion flowed easily after an initial awkardness he dispelled by bringing up an article he'd read about the legalisation of fairy dust in an effort to curtail the prolific black market trading going on and to protect fairies from being harvested. The unrelated topic had the desired effect Draco had been hoping for in breaking the ice. They had quickly fallen into already established patterns and relaxed. Discussing the pros and cons while enjoying the first course of their meal. From there it had flowed naturally to other and more personal topics. She told him about her muggle childhood, which he found fascinating, while he shared stories from his own childhood. Hermione wasn't surprised to note that his fondest memories were of his mother, while his father was cold and distant.

"It's not that different from muggles, you know." She pointed out, while daintily dissecting her fish. An excellent, perfectly cooled white wine accompanied her fish course. Chewing and swallowing he simply raised an eyebrow in a silent request for her to expand on her comment.

"I had a friend in primary school whose father was much the same. He was from a family with a proud and long military tradition. Showing emotions by males was frowned upon, so the most my friend could hope for was a pat on the back. Last I heard from my mother, my old friend joined the royal marines in an effort to at least once get his father to smile in pride. Hasn't happened so far. I am happy that my father wasn't like that."

Draco pondered her story, while sipping on his wine.

"The similarities are there. Showing emotion was never my father's strong suit, though my mother claims different. I guess he has to show some around her, for her to have fallen in love with him. Don't look so surprised. For all their faults and at times ancient preconceptions, my parents do love each other." He smiled at her trying to cover up her disbelief and blushing.

"I am sorry. That's not what I..." She stumbled. Smiling wider, leaning over a bit, he winked.

"I don't blame you. In public they portray cold aloofness as if it was a sports discipline. At home and in privacy it is a different matter. Just ask my aunt Andromeda. I have heard that you are good friends."

Smiling she nodded.

"Yes, we are. I helped her out with little Teddy from time to time. It was hard at first. She looks almost exactly like your other aunt." She shivered a bit, reaching for her wine. Without comment he refilled her glass after she'd downed its contents.

"I had similar problems. I didn't know my mother had invited her. I entered the green drawing room, my mother's favourite as it is so close to the eastern conservatory, when I caught sight of her. I wasn't even thinking, just reacting and had her pinned to the closest wall. I was mortified when my mother had calmed me down and explained. Aunt Andromeda was kind enough to forgive me my assault on her person. We correspond regularly by now, I am happy to note."

She raised her glass and he obliged and clinked it with her.

"You should send her a thank you note the next time. I talked to her about you before accepting your job offer. She encouraged me to go and assured me that you had turned over a new leaf."

His bright smile had her sigh internally. It should be illegal to look that good in candle light. He tapped her glass again softly with his.

"I will, I promise." Winking he took a sip. He felt ten feet tall when she blushed and took a sip of her own. He would need to get in touch with his mother about what would most please his aunt. A new house? An island, maybe? An island might be a tad too much. A few bouquets of flowers and the odd diamond necklace? He would go with whatever his mother recommended. The two surviving Black sisters had rebonded after the war and were once more as thick as thieves. Draco was of the firm conviction that this could only benefit his own family. The warmth and moral fibre of Andromeda a clear improvement to the manic insanity of Bellatrix.

As dessert was served, the waiter jested that the cook had made an extra big serving for her, since she hadn't had the opportunity to taste it the last time. He had ordered his personal favourite, the coffee soufflé. Savouring their respective guilty pleasures, they sighed in contentment and smiled at each other.

"When my parents visit, I have to take them here. They will love it." Hermione enthused. Smiling he ate another bit of the miraculously fluffy confection.

"Do they like French food?" He inquired. Nodding, she closed her eyes and hummed.

"Yes. This is so good." She enthused. Not thinking about it, she scooped up a bit and offered it to him. Swallowing, he carved a bit off his soufflè and offered it in return. Leaning close, they took the other's offering. He couldn't take his eyes off the way her lips closed around his spoon and never had he been more envious of a utensil. It didn't help that she licked those same lips and nibbled the lower one to boot. Trying to breathe deep and not pull her in for a kiss, he sat back. But she followed his move, prompting him to stop, his breath caught in his throat. Was she going to initiate a kiss? Was it wrong for him to pray that she was? A tension sprang up between them, their smiles slipping slowly from their faces. She scooted closer and reached out with her hand. Softly she cupped his cheek and with her thumb rubbed the corner of his mouth.

"You had a drop of caramal sauce..." She breathed. Looking into her eyes, he softly took her by the wrist, holding her hand up. Her breath hitched as his eyes turned molten silver and his lips closed over her thumb, softly sucking. Shuddering, her breath left her in a soft sigh, while everything in her stomach clenched in expectation. His eyes remained on her face, observing every reaction, drinking it in. She felt as if she was the only woman in the world. And then his tongue started to swirl lazily over her thumb. Her pulse thumped heavily in her chest and below. He saw her eyes losing focus and a soft sigh leaving those luscious lips, slightly swollen from her biting them. Letting her thumb go with a slight growl, he felt his beast stir.

"Draco." She slid even closer, her hand caressing his face. Pulling her close by his hand on her neck, he closed the distance, licking her lips, demanding entry. With a soft moan that had him tense all over, she opened for him. She tasted of caramel and ambrosia. While his right hand softly tangled in her hair, keeping her close, his left was grasping his chair in a white knuckled grip in an effort to keep him in check. Hauling her onto his lap and pulling that dress off would **not** be a good idea on the first date. Maybe later. He would order every decadent dessert delicacy, request absolute privacy and then eat and lick it off her delicious body. Just the thought had him hard not to mention how she sucked on his tongue. Adjusting his seat, he opened his legs wider to alleviate the pressure. He almost threw every cautionary thought out the window, when her small hand stroked his leg, moving upwards. Jolting as if hit by electricity, he broke their kiss and couldn't contain the moan as she stroked him through his trousers. Leaning his head to hers, trying to get his swirling thoughts under control. The primitive side of him, along with his beast, wanted to bar the door, pull her up, rip that dress off her, spread what remained of their desserts on her breasts and between her legs to then feast on her. Right before he took her. She would be wet and tight and perfect. But he wanted more. He wanted this to be permanent. A real relationship. No matter how enticing fucking her on the table until it broke with the firelight reflecting off her skin sounded, it would kill all his chances right out the gate. Groaning and unable to help himself, he undulated his hips, seeking her hand.

"We have to stop." He breathed weakly. Her eyes were glassy, a mischievous smile on her face as she confidently gripped him. Closing his eyes, he tried to breathe deep. Sweet Circe, she was hot! So confident. Demanding. It would be a constant battle of dominance. Something he had been looking forward to for a while now, creating scenarios in his head.

"Is that really what you want?" She whispered right into his ear, softly sucking on his earlobe. Groaning he pulled her in for another kiss. And just like he had so often imagined, she gave back as good as she got. He pulled every register, relied on every technique he'd learned, snogging her into submission. Her soft mewls of pleasure were not making his situation any easier. When she breathlessly pulled away, he couldn't help himself and pressed soft kisses down the slender column of her neck.

"No. I want you. But I want you for hours, days." He growled, daringly cupping her breast and tracing her hard nipple. "No interruptions, fulfilling your every desire. I want you in my bed. Naked. All that soft, bronze skin at my disposal." As turnabout was fair play, he'd whispered it in her ear, nibbling on the shell of her ear and sucking the lobe. Groaning she pushed her chest into his questing hand.

"Is that a promise?" She teased, rubbing him again. Growling he stood, pulling her fully against him. It would be easy. The chest of drawers was the right height. With a sweep of his arm and lifting her, she would be at his mercy. Instead he grabbed her deliciously rounded behind, letting her feel him. Both groaned. His initial teasing lick of the caramel, which had been intended as flirtatious, seemed like a badly laid plan now. He hadn't been intimate in years and it showed in his behaviour. It seemed that she was desperate too, which had him feeling essentially male and more than eager to give her everything she wanted. Holding her head, he met her eyes.

"A promise, a vow, anything you want. I can't think of anyone but you. You are in my dreams and in my thoughts all day." Tucking a curl of hair behind her ear, he smiled. "You are proving quite the distraction." Both of them chuckled at this and the sexual tension mellowed somewhat. He would still have to use a disillusionment charm on his trousers, but it had been more than worth it. Their hands strayed to more innocent places, while sharing a soft kiss. They retook their seats and continued to share their desserts.

xXx

The show at the Boston Opera House was entertaining, fresh and spirited. They shared their box with an elder couple, making sure that they kept their hands clean while the opera hall was darkened for the performances. During the interval they had a nice discussion with the couple, while enjoying glasses of champagne. After the ending of the show and multiple standing ovations for the dancers and orchestra, they slowly made their way to the travel room. Their arms linked and looking to the world as if they were a couple. Laughing at a comment of his, she caressed his arm, having him looking down at her with a soft smile. Unbeknownst to them, a keen observer was watching them the entire way. As fotos were taken by both other guests and the opera house employees for their website, Hermione and Draco didn't think too much of the flash going off close to them. Wending their way through the crowd, they followed the opera house attendant. From time to time they had to stop, as Draco was a known entity in Boston and many of the higher echelons of wizarding businesses frequented the opera house. Thankfully almost all of them just wanted to exchange pleasantries and congratulate both him and, when they recognised her, Hermione on the excellent start of the Circuit for the Salem team. Hermione didn't mind, when he apologised.

"It is only natural. You've been a part of their circles for a long time. Of course they will seek you out when they can. Maybe ask for a bit of a contribution?" She asked with a cheeky smile. Grinning and shaking his head, he felt relieved that she wasn't annoyed.

"Sometimes I feel like a private bank, the way they approach me. I am not even an active part of my company anymore."

She shrugged, stepping a bit closer due to the press of people around them.

"Doesn't matter. Your word carries weight. Or do you want to tell me that when you back someone or praise someone's product the rest of the industry ignores you?" Both of them chuckled.

"You make it sound as if I was unfailing in my success. I made some very stupid investments in my time. Just because I liked people or their enthusiasm for their product."

Eagerly she looked up at him.

"Oh! Do tell." She asked with a grin. Sighing, he smiled nonetheless. He'd walked right into that one.

"Very well...I once funded the Encouraging Mirrors." He admitted. Stopping, she stared at him with wide eyes.

"You did what?! What on Earth made you think criticising mirrors were a good idea?!"

Shrugging, he blushed a bit.

"The inventor made a good case when he met with me. He explained the concept well and when I tested it myself, the mirror was only full of praise. I fully expected the mirrors not only to sell well, but also to boost people's self-esteem. Who knew how vicious those damned mirrors would get?"

At the time, it had been a big scandal and Draco had pulled his funding asap. The mirrors were spelled to encourage their owners to make the most of themselves. Unfortunately that also included a rather harsh view on body image. Several girls, who had been hoping for kind instructions on how to better apply make-up or how to do their hair, were instead more or less bullied about their looks and sometimes weight. Needless to say, any and all mirrors were collected and destroyed. The firm producing them had been sued into bankruptcy and never had anyone ever again put forth the idea of intelligent mirrors.

Patting his shoulder, she chuckled and shook her head.

"Well, it seems you learned your lesson. I could have told you from the start. Arthur always told us not to trust anything that can think for itself, when we can't see where it keeps its brain." She lectured with a smug smile. Sighing he looked to the ceiling and then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Thank you for this important lesson, Ms Granger." They shared an amiable laugh.

"I guess in the interest of fair play I have to admit that I invested in Steamy Dreams Ltd." That stopped him cold, turning to her with a wide open mouth. Quickly closing the distance, he pulled her close and they resumed their course.

"You naughty minx! I would never have guessed. What prompted it?"

"Same as you. The inventor made a good case and I was feeling...lonely." She blushed. He chuckled and tucked her closer to his side.

xXx

As they neared her door and consequently the end of their date, Hermione found that she didn't want it to end. The nervous tension from the beginning was back. This time though, it wasn't due to uncertainty and tentative hope, but due to the sizzling awareness of each other. Fumbling a bit, she retrieved her keys. All the apartments in the building were spelled akin to how they had spelled the rooms in Duelling Hall. Opening her door, she turned to him.

"So...I guess it's good night then." She smiled. His smile was more confident. He softly took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to it.

"Good night. Thank you for an enchanting evening." He replied, caressing her cheek, before letting go of her hand. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, before he swallowed, inclined his head and turned to leave. Nibbling on her lip she watched him go. Should she invite him in? Maybe offer him coffee? Remembering how desperate she had felt for him in the restaurant, she was uncertain. While she definitely wanted to see if the rest of him tasted as delicious as his mouth and neck had and if his cock was as enticingly big as her fingers had suggested, she didn't want to rush.

"Draco?" She called, before she knew it. The way he immediately turned on his heel had her smiling. She'd thought he'd moved slower than usual. Maybe hoping for her to call him back. He closed the distance in long strides, his right hand going straight into her hair, while his left arm pulled her close around her waist. Sighing, she closed her eyes and met his lips with her own. It started of innocently enough, but the moment she allowed him entrance, all the heat she'd beaten back down in the restaurant flared back to life. Moaning she let go and caressed his chest, face and finally clasped her hands behind his neck. This was nice. She could spend hours doing this. And so could he apparently. From time to time he would retreat, press soft kisses to her upper or lower lip, only to dive back in. This was perfect and natural and...just as she'd always wanted a date to go. The way he was kissing her was wonderful. Deliberate and slow. Not at all like Ron, who had always been eager, but seemed to view kissing akin to eating. All enthusiasm and open mouth, but no manners or technique. They had tried to educate the other, but it had never truly clicked. With Draco she didn't have to say anything. He listened to her every sigh, finding what she liked through that and her body language. Out of breath they leaned their foreheads together. She took a step back and he leaned in to get another kiss. She took another step, but he held onto her door jambs to stay out. Smiling she rubbed her nose to his.

"Coffee?" She asked a bit breathless. Chuckling he shook his head.

"If I step beyond this door, I won't be able to help myself. Don't tempt me. I am trying to be a gentleman here." He rumbled. Both smiled brightly. She kissed him again. He growled low and she noted his upper arms bunching as he held the jambs tighter. Teasingly she softly bit his lower lip as she pulled back. Grumbling he watched her and the look in his eyes had her thighs clench in delicious anticipation.

"You, Ms Granger, are being a very bad girl." His voice had lowered and it made her shiver. Licking her lips in provocation, she stepped back again.

"I am. What are you going to do about it?" She breathed. For a moment they only stared at each other. Then he lunged forward, catching her lips, but never letting go of the door. Moaning she threaded her hands through his hair, pulling out the silver ring that had peaked her interest from the first. Breathing heavily they parted.

"Please, Hermione. I want to do this right. I want us to last." He pleaded. Softly she caressed his cheek, almost moved to tears by his entreaty. And he was right. Falling into bed with him right now would be glorious and satisfying on so many levels, but she wasn't sure it would lead to the kind of relationship they both seemed to be looking for. Their chemistry was undeniable, but what about the rest? In some respects he was very conservative and on some other topics she didn't know how he felt. Moving closer, she nuzzled her face to his, breathing deep.

"Sweet dreams." She offered, pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek and slowly closing the door. Neither moved their eyes off the other. The door closing broke the contact. Biting her lip, feeling flushed and excited, she leaned to the door. It was early days, but she had a good feeling.

 **AN:** Sorry for the wait. Apart from family birthday season I managed to catch my annual winter cold. Yay! On the positive side, that means no more colds for the rest of the winter. :P I hope you enjoyed and I will keep on writing. Have a great one!


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Over the next days both Hermione and Draco were floating along as if on clouds. The students noticed that there was a decided change in their instructors. They were much easier to forgive errors and their assignments only half as bad as usual. It was also noted all over campus that they had started sharing their lunches. Jane would sometimes beg them to let her accompany them, since Lucrecia apparently had decreed that Jane was such a nice girl, but needed a new wardrobe and dragged her along on shopping sprees of epic proportions. It had led to some tension between her and Blaise. Hermione tried to lend an understanding ear, but she often found herself spacing out and remembering her date.

"Are you even listening to me?" Jane's shout pulled her from her musings. Blushing Hermione sat up straighter, patting down her hair.

"Sorry." She apologised. Jane took her in and sighed. They were sat in a café after having finished their classes for the day. The weekend was coming up and while Jane feared endless awkward silences with Lucrecia, all Hermione could think about was what Draco may have planned for the weekend. They had spoken about going sailing or maybe a picnic.

"It's okay, I guess. I mean you're fresh in love, of course your thoughts are anywhere but here." Jane waved it off. Blushing brightly, Hermione took a sip of her coffee to recover. Was she in love? Wasn't it a bit early for that?

"I...I wouldn't say love. Love is a strong word. A permanent word. I would say...infatuated? Or strongly attracted." As she was groping to explain, Jane watched her and tried not to laugh.

"Distracted more like it. You haven't caught anything I've said for the last ten minutes." She chuckled as the red in Hermione's cheeks got deeper. "Tell me. What has Draco McDreamy-Malfoy planned for the weekend? Must be a whopper since you're constantly spacing out on me."

Hermione shrugged and tucked her hair back behind her ears.

"He hasn't said. And honestly, I haven't asked. I have no idea what to suggest. The last date was so perfect. Dinner and the show at the opera...I know you are not into ballet, but I urge you and Blaise to go. The music and the dancers are superb."

Nodding along, Jane took a sip from her cup and took Hermione in with a raised eyebrow.

"No thanks. No men in tights, except for Blaise, for me. But back on topic. Every date is different. Your last date was perfect not because of what you did, but because it was the two of you. Right?"

Hermione mulled it over. She had been out to dinner with other men and also at the theatre. Be it for a dance performance or a show. And never had it felt as natural or as titillating as it had with Draco.

"I guess you're right." She grudgingly admitted. Jane smirked.

"You guess? Trust me, I'm right. It's not a promise that each date will be as good as the one you've had, but it's a good indicator you at least will have a good time. Now as for your next date this weekend, why don't you take him out?"

"He's kind of old-fashioned." Hermione mulled. But Jane was right. Why wait for Draco to take the first step. It was the twenty-first century and a woman could ask a man out on a date as well. And while she liked his old world manners when it came to courtesies like opening doors and general polite behaviour, she needed to push some of those conservative boundaries and find out how important some of those aspects were to him. If they took this all the way, would he expect her to stay at home? To the best of her knowledge, Narcissa Malfoy had never held a job in her life. Her only occupation being the Lady Malfoy and general empress of the wizarding social circles in England. That had only changed out of necessity when her husband and son were imprisoned after the war and she was the only Malfoy available to take over the family company. According to Andromeda, it had been quite the bone of contention when Lucius was released. The Malfoy patriarch had fully expected his wife to step down in his favour. She had refused. And Draco had supported her, which gave Hermione hope. That had been his mother though. Would he tend towards the way he'd been brought up and told and seen since he was a child what a woman should be, or would he be open to a different dynamic?

"Does your mother work?" She asked Jane. Surprised the other woman sat back.

"Wow. That came out of nowhere. Uhm...yeah. With five kids she kind of had to. At least part-time. My dad has a decent income, but when they bought the house both of them had to work in order to pay back loans and put food on the table. Where is this coming from?"

Blushing Hermione twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, not meeting Jane's eyes.

"Just thinking." She deflected, but Jane wasn't so easily put off.

"Holy shit! You're already thinking that far ahead?!" She laughed, leaning back. "Hermione and Draco, sitting in a tree – G." She sang full of glee, while Hermione blushed.

"It can never hurt to be prepared or to consider various scenarios." Hermione said, trying to get her cheeks to behave and stop their burning.

"That's preparing quite a bit. Isn't it a bit early to think about kids and who will stay at home?" Jane asked softly. She could understand the impulse. At some point in a relationship she'd imagined what it would be like if she'd had kids with her boyfriend of the time. With Blaise it hadn't really crossed her mind. She guessed Hermione was thinking about it, since that friend of hers, Ginny, had been showing pictures of her kids to them while prepping Hermione for the date. Since Jane saw those kids for the first time, Ginny pulled out ones from when they'd been babies. She didn't know if it was a biological or evolutionary instinct, but every time she saw baby fotos, her mind automatically went to what her own might look like. Not that she would tell that to her mother anytime soon, since the woman would bombard her with fotos of her nephews and nieces in the hope that it would encourage Jane to get a move on and a bun in her oven. After a painfully elaborate catholic wedding of course.

"I know. I like to be prepared for all eventualities. It's a habit. Say my relationship with Draco goes that far; that we consider having children together. Wouldn't it be better to discuss this now than getting our hopes up only to have them shattered later?" Hermione pleaded with Jane.

"Listen, Hermione. That's all very far in the future. And even if you have different opinions on how to deal with kids and who stays home, etc. it won't necessarily be the end. You're both adults. You'll talk and figure out how to proceed." Jane reassured her.

"Yes. Yes, that makes sense. Of course we wouldn't call it quits because of one disagreement. Then we would have to break up and make amends all the time."

Jane waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Ooh! Angry make-up sex is some of the best." She enthused, while Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair.

"Maybe. But I've had enough fights and tension in my last relationship. The last thing I need is to be constantly on edge and suspicious." Hermione grumbled and took another sip of her coffee. Commiserating, Jane patted her hand. Hermione had told her a bit about her last relationship and when she'd asked Blaise, he'd filled in some of the blanks. Both Blaise and Jane were in accord that Hermione's ex was an idiot and didn't deserve her.

"I feel you, girl. Now. For the weekend, why don't you ask Draco out? Or if you don't want to be too direct, simply ask if he's free and if he is open for another outing. Nothing specific. Just check whether he's free."

Hermione mulled this over and a dreamy smile drifted over her face. Jane groaned. While she thought it cute that her normally debonair friend acted like a teenager, it didn't help her with her problem. Namely Lucrecia Zabini, who seemed in no rush to go back home. When she'd barged in on dinner a few nights ago she'd even mentioned buying a house or apartment. The only mollification Jane had gotten was the tense and alarmed expression on Blaise's face. And she knew why. When he'd asked her over for brunch, she'd come in and seen him with a put-upon expression in his living room, being used as a mannequin by his mother. Lucrecia ordered him to change again and again and try on the clothes she'd bought for him. When Lucrecia had finally left, Jane had demanded an explanation of why he let his mother treat him like this. The answer was sadder than she'd ever could have thought.  
Lucrecia had only once in her life truly loved. Blaise's father and her first husband. He had died in a tragic accident only days before Blaise was born. It had broken the young Lucrecia. She had been living a dream with her handsome, loving husband. Their joy about to be complete, only to have it snatched from her. Ever since, she had sworn off love. And she'd attempted to instill the same in Blaise.  
'Love only hurts, tesoro. If you let it in, it will tear you apart from the inside.' She'd said. She couldn't help but love her son. And she loved him more than anything in the world. Despite her best efforts, he sometimes caught her, alone, in the dark, looking at the inside of the locket she never took off. It held the last picture of her first husband and her with a big baby bump. That sadness was what prompted him to let her baby him even now. Despite her vow to never love again and guard her heart jealously, she loved him. And he would endure all manner of embarassing episodes for her. Jane could accept that, but the rest of it, all those jabs at her job, her hair and her clothes were too much.  
Setting her shoulders, she decided it was time to put her foot down. The next time Lucrecia let loose a volley, she better be prepared for the echo!

xXx

Emilio was nervous. This weekend was the fundraiser at the Jupiter's Men's Club and according to Professor Malfoy, the next steps in the case of Eliana would be decided then and there. As his professor had promised, he'd kept Emilio up to date on what was happening and what plans he were making. Both he and Eliana were tense but optimistic. The quiet confidence of the professor was impressive and calming. When all three had met in secret, he'd laid out the problem and the different ways in which it could be approached in a straightforward manner. Hearing him talk about it, it didn't seem so life-altering as they'd thought it would be.

In the meantime Eliana was fending off the attentions of Stuart. Attentions that had intensified, much to Emilio's dismay. And Eliana's. She was running out of excuses and Stuart was pushing for a more intimate relationship. Just thinking about that had Emilio fuming.  
On the bright side, Stuart's little posse of dickheads had been cut down quite a bit. The Duelling gym break-in and its consequences had been all over campus in record time on Monday. Within hours almost all sixteen of the captured students were arrested by the Guard and escorted off campus after having to clear out their rooms. Not to mention the ruccuss their parents apparently raised. Not at the university, but at their own offspring. The Guards-in-training had gleefully reported to the duelling team members of the drama that had taken place at the Guard station, when the respective parents had to come by to pick up their errant sons. According to them, Professor Malfoy would be honoured by the Guard-Chief for his contributions, while not having to donate a single Dollar. The Guard-Chief often had to deal with those same snobs and had to take their snide remarks and jabs at his origins. He had worked his way up the chain and came from a humble neighbourhood. As such, the Guard-Chief had taken a great delight in lecturing the parents on the law and how this couldn't be swept under the rug. Each of the youths now had permanent records for breaking and entering. Each signed with an almost artistic flourish of the Guard-Chief himself.

The arrest and subsequent ousting of the jocks had even brought a smile to James' face. It had been small, but it had been there. Both Emilio and Francesca had seen it, so it couldn't have been a fluke. For now they had put their revenge plans on hold, since anything happening so close to the Duelling gym break-in would arouse suspicion even in the thickest head. Also, while Emilio hadn't shared why, he wanted to wait for the outcome of this weekend and the fundraiser.  
Instead they concentrated on their training. As Professor Zabini had reminded them, the competition in Washington was only the first of many and the element of surprise would no longer be on their side. The other teams now knew that Salem was a competitor to take seriously and the next competition would be that much harder. In an effort to do some research, they had done a team outing to the Dragonquill Pub to watch the broadcast of the West Coast Circuit opening ceremony from San Francisco. Olympia and Los Angeles were greatly favoured and they saw why. Some of them swallowed hard. If they indeed made it to the nationals, they would most likely compete with some of those teams and it would be hard. And that was only the west coast. The south and north had strong teams as well.

Their professors didn't let them ponder that too much though. Instead they were put through their paces harder than before. Now that they were battle-tested, individual weaknesses were addressed and strengths further boosted. It helped their nerves a bit, but they were still anxious about their next competition only a month off. While many wanted to know how to duel with two wands, professor Malfoy had nixed that idea immediately.

"Learn to duel properly with one and maybe I'll let you try with two wands." He'd told them with a small smile to then again continue with his gruelling program. Though they had noted that he was more forgiving of errors and his face seemed, softer somehow. At least the girls claimed it was. And they also claimed to know the reason why, since Professor Granger was acting a bit strange too. According to the girls, both their professors were madly in love with each other and it was all so romantic. The guys only shrugged, while the girls swooned.

James passed by Emilio on his daily trek to the library. While it wasn't unusual for them to seek out the library, Emilio was worrid that James went every day. Like clockwork James left Duelling Hall at two p.m. and didn't return for a few hours.

"Hey James! Francis is helping us with charms later. You in?" He called after him. James turned, looked to his watch and then to the ceiling. Most likely going through his internal calendar.

"We'll see." He grumbled back and left. Now truly worried, Emilio went looking for Keisha. Unsurprisingly, Keisha was in the common room with her books spread around her. While Francesca preferred the quiet of her room to study, Keisha needed some noise around her as queer as that sounded. Emilio would never be able to concentrate and James would crawl all over the walls or more likely stare the other occupants of the room into silence.  
Flopping down next to Keisha, he looked over her notes. She had a neat hand, clearly legible. She'd needed it for her last job. She'd temped as a clerk in a lawyers office. A very good job, especially for someone from their neighbourhood. No matter that the lawyer was a small fish.

"Hey there. Got a minute?" He asked in a low voice, surreptitiously taking in the other team members around them. Most of them were deeply involved in exploding UNO. A game introduced by Francis and Clarence, after they'd played exploding snap once.

"Hm...Not really." She muttered, still deep in her materials. Sighing he put his hand on the book on spells she was reading. Groaning she leaned back and stared at him.

"What?" She asked irritated. Normally Emilio took the hint and left her alone when she was in the zone.

"I'm worried about James." He murmured, which had her sit up and forget her anger.

"What do you mean?" She asked softly, taking her cue from him and not wanting to alert the others. Shrugging, he scratched the back of his head.

"He's been going to the library every day. Haven't you noticed? Do you think he's struggling? Do you know whether it's something to do with his mom? Should I ask..."

"If you want your nose broken, go ahead and ask about that bitch daring to call herself his mom. He hasn't mentioned anything to me. And his grandmother hasn't called, so I guess that all is good on that front and Disappearing-Mom is either clean or gone. We both know that grandma Hawk only calls when the bitch hauls a new loser home, who is just waiting for the chance to steal what grandma has left. Maybe you're making too much of this. Perhaps he's trying to get out ahead of the material. God knows I'm trying to. If I knew what was coming, I might not sit there like an idiot with my mouth open all the time, thinking: 'Hey! That's neat!' Instead I would maybe raise my hand once in a while and give an answer that doesn't sound absolutely rudimentary." She growled. Grinning he nudged her in the shoulder and tried to cheer her up a bit. He knew the feeling she was describing.

"Rudimentary, hm? Look at you, using words with more than one syllable." He joked. It had the desired effect though. Snorting a laugh, she punched him in the shoulder.

"Shut it, dickhead. So James is goingt to the library a lot. Have his grades slipped? Has he spoken with Francis about struggling with something? He didn't say anything to me about James wanting extra tutoring."

Francis had become their go-to guy. Not only because he was crazy smart, but also because he had become a dear friend to some and Keisha's boyfriend, much to Francis' astonishment at her immediate acceptance of his offer of a date and a deeper relationship. Emilio sighed.

"I don't know. He never talks about his grades or the papers we get back. Next time I'm in his room, I'll have to check."

Grinning mischievously, Keisha nudged him in the side.

"You could always call grandma Hawk." She suggested. Barking a laugh, he shook his head.

"No thanks. She would just give me a lecture about respecting other people's privacy and not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong."

She waved it off.

"Sissy. If you tell her you're worried about James, she'll calm right down and do anything you want."

He chuckled.

"Yeah. And then, when she calls him to ask what's wrong, he'll seek me out and give me a shiner I can blind people with. No thanks. Let's just agree to keep an eye on him. Mind spreading the word?"

Smiling they clasped hands.

"Together, dude. It's what we promised each other, right?"

Getting up, he left her to her studies.

"Right. See you, Keisha." He had his own studies to get back to. He wanted to be prepared for their revision meeting later today. Francis would quiz them and he was determined to beat Jamal at least once.

xXx

Draco sat in his office, working on the progression charts of his students. While he was pleased with the progress of some, others still had a lot of work in front of them. Luckily all their first-tiers were doing well. As well as the freestyle teams. Changes in teams hadn't been necessary after the first competition. Though Emilio had first been reluctant about partnering with Gunter, those protests had stopped for good now that the first competition was done. They had worked well together and as predicted, Gunter kept Emilio from making hasty plays that would leave him open. He was especially pleased with the good dynamics between Lorelei and James. Their performance had been nothing short of outstanding. Blaise had been outrageously smug the entire week after the competition, since one of his freestyle teams had schooled the national champions. Draco had let him, since he also was proud of what the teams had achieved and wasn't as vocal about praise. Instead he'd left it to Blaise. Twirling his fountain pen through his fingers, Draco pondered what he could do for the team as a reward. Maybe it would be better to wait until after the next competition, since he was convinced they would have to work that much harder to take home wins. Now the other teams were aware that they actually were an opponent to take seriously. With their training regimen he was convinced that they still would hold out well, but his team was new and experience could often be a deciding factor.

A knock on his open office door had him look up. His students knew about his open door policy, but as he'd entered Duelling Hall today, all of them had been busy with studies or with their own amusements. When he saw Hermione standing in the door, he rose immediately and a bright smile tugged on his lips.

"Hello Draco. I hope I am not interrupting." She greeted and blushed so prettily, while answering his smile with a soft one of her own. Shaking his head, he offered her a chair.

"No. I was just done updating the charts. What can I do for you?"

Sitting down, she smoothed out her skirt and fidgeted with its edge. His smile dimmed. Why was she nervous? Had something happened? He began to worry.

"Do you mind if we close the door?" She asked in a soft voice. Swallowing he shook his head and waved his hand and the door closed. This had to be serious. Was she about to tell him they would be better off as friends? He didn't know if he would be able to take that.

"As the weekend is coming up, I was wondering if you had any plans?" She asked. For a moment he sat stunned, his head empty. Sitting back, he breathed deep and smiled.

"Oh! Ah, yes, unfortunately I do have a prior engagement. If not for the Jupiter fundraiser, I would have already asked whether you would be interested in spending time together."

Her blush reappeared deeper than before and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Thank you. It is too bad that you are already busy. Maybe we could have gone out for a bite to eat and discuss the tattoo ideas you had." Both were disappointed that this weeked they would apparently not spend time together. Pondering it, Draco sat up a little and leaned forward.

"I don't know whether you would enjoy it, but would you like to accompany me?" He asked hopefully. Confused she looked up.

"Accompany you? To the Jupiter fundraiser?" She asked to be sure. He nodded.

"There will be a dinner, an auction which's proceeds will go to charity and a dance. It is not an ideal date and...I also aim to take care of some business while I am there." At his admission, he found himself blushing. The more he'd described it, the less he knew why he'd brought it up.

"Business?" She asked, frowning. She knew that he still invested a bit, but that was just for fun. Sometimes his company approached him about ideas or pitches they'd received for advice, but he had been adamant that he no longer was a part of the company day to day operations. He sighed, not meeting her eyes and she became uncomfortable. Had he lied to her?

"It does not concern my company. It's...personal. More of a favour for Emilio."

Now she was very intrigued and had to know more.

"Please, tell me more." She asked. Raising an eyebrow, he shrugged in the end.

"Very well, but please know that this is confidential. Emilio told me in confidence, but I would like your insight. He came to me a few weeks ago, telling me about the plight of a friend of his. Her parents were deeply in debt and they had arranged a marriage for her. It was understood in this arrangement that her family's debts would be forgiven, as long as she married the other party's son." As he'd surmised, she became furious at this. Her face flushed in anger and her hands balled into fists.

"That is barbaric! How could her parents do this to her?!" She growled. It wasn't such a new concept for him. No matter how antiquated he thought arranged marriages were, he was familiar with the concept.

"I tend to agree. Arranged marriages are illegal in the US, but so far, no one has done anything actionable. The agreement is simply a verbal promise. Nothing that can be taken to the Guard or the Ministry. I checked. Emilio was kind enough to find out from his friend who bought his friend's debts. The patriarch and main party pushing this forward is going to be at the fundraiser. I wanted to observe him, feel him out if you will. The kind of plan I will put into action will depend on what kind of man he is. Associates of mine made inquiries and described him and his business practices to me, but I want an impression of my own, before I proceed. The past has taught me always to question the version of others."

As he spoke, Hermione calmed herself a little and nodded. His ending had her a little worried. Did that mean he didn't trust anybody? Would he take everything said to him with a grain of salt? While she could appreciate academic scepticisim, she tended to trust in what others told her. In certain areas she would do her own research, but that would be out of interest. Shelving that for later discussion, she sat forward.

"I would like to help. I know such functions. Have been to some myself. While you will easily be able to manipulate the men to tell you anything about the business side you want to know and maybe even some personal tidbits, the women will not gossip with you. That is where the juciest information is, I have found. Though I myself do not engage in it, I know the power of it. Though not always one hundred percent true, the rumours and innuendo can lead to interesting opportunities." Smugly she leaned back and crossed her legs. She wasn't prepared for the smoldering look he gave her. She was also surprised to find that the smirk he currently was wearing wasn't the off-putting one she knew from Hogwarts. It was technically the same facial expression, but her reaction to it was very different. It had her tingling and excited.

"Do you have any idea how sexy it is when you are plotting like a Slytherin?" He growled. Deciding not to back down, she flicked her hair back and smirked right back.

"I do now." She purred. Sharing a smouldering look, both grappled with their impulse to bridge the distance and do unspeakable things to the other. He'd always had a bit of a stern librarian fetish and with her hair in the back pulled into a stern bun, a pearl necklace and the demure silk shirt and pencil skirt, along with black high heels, she was everything he could ever want. As for her, she'd always been a sucker for well-dressed men and few dressed as posh and well as Draco Malfoy. Add in his chisseled facial features and the confidence he oozed when dealing in business and revenge and she was more than intrigued.

"So you wouldn't mind?" He asked. The fundraiser would be that much more bearable with her there. At such events he normally would have to fend off the badly veiled attempts of widowed, bored women, trying to entice him into a one-night-stand. Sometimes they weren't even widowed and their significant other was right there. What had perturbed him the most, was that those husbands didn't seem to mind. Some were quite eager. But with Hermione on his arm, he doubted any of those cougars would attempt it. As he'd discovered at Theo's bar, there seemed to be an understanding amongst women. At least he believed there was. One look from her and all the hopefuls had immediately turned tail and left. Not that he minded. He knew that his eyes promised death to any man daring to approach his woman.

"Not at all. While we help Emilio's friend doesn't mean that we can't have a little fun at the same time, right?" She winked and they shared a little smirk. The fundraiser looked to be a lot more fun this year. He'd only agreed to go because of two things. One, he represented his company and two, he wanted to feel out Horatio Killian. Now it actually looked like it was going to be not only a fruitful but enjoyable evening. Rising from his seat, he offered her his hand to help her to her feet. While rounding his table, he drank her in. She followed his movement with her eyes, her legs still demurely crossed and her hands folded in her lap. When she took his hand, he not only helped her up, but held on to it, sliding it up his chest and pressing a soft kiss on its back while looking into her eyes.

"May I pick you up at seven?" He asked. Keeping hold of his hand, she turned it towards her, pressing a soft kiss of her own to it. Both knew that kissing was dangerous right now. Neither trusted themselves to keep it soft and loving. He could still feel how perfect she had fit against him and she couldn't stop thinking about the tingling in her lips and stomach after his kisses. Wondering whether that tingling would move to other parts of her body when he kissed her there. So no matter how much both wanted to part in a more intimate manner, they held back.

"I will be waiting." She promised, winked and left. Grinning he leant back into his arms propped on his desk. Saturday looked to be much better than he'd thought.

 **AN:** The plot thickens...mwahahahaha! :P Hope you still enjoy and have a great one! :D


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Horatio took in the ball room of the Jupiter's club with a haughty expression. It had taken his family generations to get to this point and he was working on getting them even higher. Any and all measures were fair game to him. Stepping on others to get here was simple survival of the fittest. His wife slung her arm through his and together they entered the vast room already filled with the high society of the East Coast. When his father had arranged the match to Evelyn, Horatio hadn't expected much, apart from increased influence and new business opportunities. To his delight, his wife proved not only to be a dutiful wife, but just as ruthless as him. And early on, they had agreed to work together. It had made them a devastating team. While he dominated the business side, she supplied him with all the juicy gossip she overheard. They had taken Boston and set their sights now on Salem. Their efforts to get a foot in had been hindered by a relatively new arrival. The mysterious Draco Malfoy. He was the main reason Horatio had paid the horrendously expensive entrant fee to become a member of the club. His attempts to find out more about his rival had been largely unsuccesful. It seemed as if no one truly knew anything about the man, except for him to be obscenely rich, very private and a philanthropist. Nothing Horatio could use. He knew though that Malfoy would be here tonight, as he'd been every year. As agreed before coming, Evelyn would sniff out any rumours and gossip that would help them, while he would talk to the men about Malfoy Enterprises. A perfect plan that had worked well for them before.

They had to cement their station before they could sit back and enjoy their retirement. While their daughter was doing well in her classes and played the game well already, the upper echelons of society were still patriarchal. Meaning that their son would have to take over after them. Evelyn had found the perfect girl in Eliana Bellworth. Good family name, intelligent and she had the right temperament. Stuart had the right looks and when the mood struck him, or when Horatio and Evelyn threatened him, he could behave properly. They needed someone to take over, when they retired in a few years and Ms Bellworth was just the ticket. She would be able to keep Stuart in line, while at the same time making sure that the outside image remained intact. Which was why they had done everything in their power to make sure that the match between Eliana and Stuart was the only way out of the phenomenally big hole Bellworth senior had dug for himself. According to their contacts at the Bellworths' bank however, something was wrong. Eliana had started to pull her capital and invested it. With surprising success. Both Evelyn and Horatio suspected an outside influence and that was unacceptable. It was too much of a coincidence that as soon as Malfoy started working at Salem University, their carefully laid plans started to show cracks in their foundations. A situation that had to be remedied.

They had arrived early by design to scout the location and scope out the competition and the possible allies. After accepting the drinks proferred by liveried servants, they toured the room, exchanging pleasantries with other early arrivals. Quickly they found a quiet corner, affording them an excellent view of the room, the entrance and through a window to their left, an unobstructed view of the street. Horatio had learned over the years to judge men by the cars they drove. It was not always easy, since sometimes expensive cars would be leased just for such events to telegraph wealth where there was none. Which was why he'd studied number plates. Compatriots of his had made fun of him, but he knew when people were only posing, while others sunk their fortunes into doomed investments or threw it at con men. Leasing companies had specific number plates and those arriving in limos he never took seriously anyway.  
While Evelyn would keep an eye out for wardrobe, since she had a better eye, he would make judgments based on the arrival and mannerisms. As the other guests started trickling in, they amused themselves by making comments and predictions about the others. Already they had found a few new avenues and victims. They knew what to look for. Lingering glances, stiff stances, etc. Evelyn had an amazing memory, while he often needed to make a few notes. He would turn non-chalantly as if to say something in her ear, she would step closer, shielding him and he would write his notes down in the code they'd developed over the years. His notebooks were filled with details and dark secrets of the rich and famous of the eastern seaboard. Rumours abounded about them, but none had ever seen them. And Horatio made sure that no one knew about them, except for Evelyn. When they retired, they had already decided to hand the notebooks over to their daughter. Stuart wouldn't know how to use them wisely and Eliana couldn't at this time be trusted.

"Judge Kendrick's wife seems awfully young." Horatio muttered, while noting it down. Evelyn smirked, hidden by her taking a sip from her wineglass.

"Aw darling...don't be that way. I am sure that she loves him for him and his italian gardener." She winked at her husband, who grinned back.

A veritable storm of camera flashes went off outside, directing their gazes outside. A Bentley Mulsanne in tasteful, classic, understated colours pulled up to the curb and Malfoy exited. Flowing from his seat, he received the ticket from the valet, inconspicuously handing the young man money. From the young valet's smile, it had to be a high denomination. To their surprise, Malfoy didn't enter, but rounded to car, opened the passenger door and offered his hand to someone. The journalists and paparazzi outside were pushing forward. Ever since the young, enigmatic and attractive Brit had moved to the US, speculations and rumours had run wild about his love life. While Horatio had found back issues of newspapers and magazines showing Malfoy with various women, it had always turned out to either be connected to his business or for a charity event. According to Horatio's research though, Malfoy had always come to the fundraiser alone. The woman exiting the Bentley and rising elegantly, had to be special.

"Do you know her?" Horatio asked. Evelyn unobtrusively took a look and hummed.

"She's his colleague. One of the new professors at Salem. Hermione Granger, I believe her name was. Fabulous dress. An Auguste Salle-Roix. Seems like an original design." She mumbled under her breath. It didn't mean much to Horatio, but if Evelyn noted it, it meant that it wasn't cheap. Having a name now, Horatio believed he remembered her. When he'd attempted to get into the rising market of television and cell phones, he'd run into her name again and again. Not only as the person responsible for it working in magical environs, but also as a major investor. And as she was a majority holder in many companies, she had been able to set down rules. Rules that prohibited certain business tactics Horatio was deeply immersed in. While he was discreet, there were still rumours, which had prevented a more forced entry into the market. The evening promised to be even more informative. He would keep his distance and let Evelyn feel her out. This was a prime opportunity, since both Malfoy and Ms Granger rarely appeared at society events like this. That they were both here now, was serendipidous.

xXx

As Hermione took his hand, she looked up at Draco. She'd thought him handsome in his outfit from their last date, but he set new standards tonight. The long black coat with intricate, subtle accents in green thread, dark green shirt and matching vest to the coat. Tailored trousers and polished shoes. His hair was loosely gathered at the back. A cravat in silver and dark green finished off the outfit. When he'd picked her up, it seemed that not only she was speechless. For hours she'd pored over the possible outfits and called both Jane and Ginny for assistance. Jane had another big dinner with Blaise and Lucrecia, so she couldn't come by and Ginny was accompanying Harry to a cocktail party in Washington for the British wizarding ambassador. After copious amounts of calls and pictures being exchanged over their phones, they had settled on Hermione's current outfit. The dress had been an impulse buy when she'd been in Paris for a convention and she'd more or less stumbled into a small studio shop. She'd had no idea that the owner was a celebrated designer. She'd simply enjoyed the conversation with him, as she'd browsed the dresses on display. In the end she'd bought the dress, even though it was completely out of the price range and limit she'd set for herself. By accident, it matched Draco's colours. It was a deep green, almost seeming black, dotted with silver sequins providing highlights. What had made the dress so prohibitively expensive had not been the designer's name, as she'd assumed at the time, but the fact that the sequins were dusted in diamond dust. Long gloves in matching fabric covered her arms up to her elbows. As she had come to dazzle, she'd asked Gringotts to send her the diamond choker she'd been gifted by her grandmother. It wasn't as gaudy as some she'd seen over the years, but rather subtle and some might say understated. After the war, she'd bought earrings to match it. Her hair was partly up in a Greek style, which had been fortuitous, as Draco had presented her with a delicate silver leaf head band. While she had protested that it was too much, he had blushingly insisted she take it. In the end, she'd acquiesced and added it in a spur of the moment decision to her outfit. It was perfect. Linking her arm with his, she smiled at him, ignoring the reporters yelling questions at them. She'd had ample practice at that and it seemed so did he. The hired security kept the eager journalists at bay and the carpet leading up the steps to the Jupiter club clear. At the entrance, an elder man in livery greeted them and accepted the invitation slip from Draco.

"Welcome Mr Malfoy. I hope you have a wonderful evening." He greeted and invited them in with a bow. Nodding back, they entered the grand ball room of the club. Smiling Hermione took it in. Round tables were arranged in clusters around a square area. At the end of the room a small stage had been erected. Men and women were milling around on the stage, getting ready to provide string music. A smile tugged at her lips. Excited she laid her other hand on top of the one looped over his arm.

"The dancing will be classical, yes?" She asked, hope swinging in her voice. Smiling he nodded and looked down to her.

"Of course. Though we do not have to dance if you do not want." He said with a mischievous smile. Shaking her head and swatting his arm playfully, she followed his lead further into the room.

"Oh, we will dance, Mr Malfoy. I was promised the whole package if you remember?"

Lifting her hand, he gave a chaste kiss to her knuckles, looking deeply into her eyes.

"As the lady wishes." He purred. Hermione couldn't help herself and bit her lower lip, which only had him crowd closer to her. Before he could do something monumentally uncouth, like snogging her as if his life depended on it, a voice broke into their private bubble.

"Mr Malfoy! Such a pleasure to see you." It was James Holbrook, who closed the distance to them, a slightly nervous looking woman on his arm. Just like Holbrook she seemed to be in her thirties, fit and full of energy. Unlike him though, she seemed to feel out of place.

"Mr Holbrook." Draco greeted his duelling partner and inclined his head as Holbrook stopped in front of them. "May I assume that this is your radiant wife?" At his engaging smile, she blushed.

"Indeed she is. Martina, may I introduce the man responsible for all my aches and pains, Draco Malfoy." Holbrook chuckled, while his wife shook her head. Sighing she turned to Draco.

"I am sorry about my husband, Mr Malfoy. He thinks he's awfully clever." She said and both shared a smirk. James shrugged. While Martina at first had been angry at him spending so much time at the club and duelling, James had confessed that duelling Malfoy had made him realise that he never wanted to go back to duelling. Not because he no longer liked it, but because he remembered the amount of training and preparation it took to be at the top for it to actually pay the bills. He loved spending time with his wife and child too much to return to that grinding training necessary to get him into shape for competing. Most duellists in the top league had their entire families along. Trainers, coaches, support and medical personnel attached to a duellist were often entire family groups and the next generation was trained as they travelled the circuit. James had been an outsider to that elite group and as he'd climbed the ladder to the top, inclusion had been slow. When he'd been crowned champion it had changed radically. All family groups had approached him with offers of marriage. It had disturbed him on a level. Especially since he'd already been affianced at the time. Over time, as he'd continued to be at the top, the family groups hadn't stopped their efforts, which had cemented his decision to drop out the minute he felt that he'd earned enough of a financial cushion for his budding family. The strain on his marriage had been enormous and he had often been amazed that Martina simply hadn't filed for divorce.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Holbrook." Malfoy offered in a friendly voice, raising Martina's hand to mime a kiss. To James' amusement, his wife blushed a bit. He looked to Ms Granger to gauge her reaction to this, as he saw it, flirtatious greeting, but the other woman gave no indication of jealousy or anger. Maybe this was normal for Malfoy? James wouldn't know, since he'd only interacted with the man within the halls of the Jupiter club, where women weren't allowed, unless it was a special occasion like tonight.

"May I introduce my radiant companion. Miss Hermione Granger." Malfoy's voice pulled James out of his musings and he offered his hand to the woman. Of course he knew who she was. He'd watched the East Coast Circuit opening ceremony. He had been amazed at her technique, but also a bit scared. Her aggressiveness something he never wanted to experience himself.

"A pleasure, ma'am." James smiled. Nodding and shaking his hand, she answered his smile with one of her own.

"The pleasure is mine." Hermione turned to Martina. "And a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs Holbrook."

With introductions out of the way, their conversation turned to pleasurable small talk about everything and nothing. Martina was delighted to find out that her new acquaintances were well-read and she quickly became embroiled in a deep discussion with Hermione about John Le Carré novels and their depiction of the clandestine side of the Cold War. The men were discussing the current state of the professional circuit and the different contenders' chances at the title. During their conversation, others joined their group and drifted on again. As choice journalists had been allowed inside, Hermione assumed that most simply wanted to be seen with Draco. Some of them were interested in her as well, due to her sudden fame because of her duel at the Circuit opening, but mostly because of her factor as an unknown in the high society here and her special status as Draco's date tonight. From what she could gather from the veiled interrogations of the other women introducing themselves to her, she was the first date Draco had ever brought to an event such as this. It gave her an odd sense of satisfaction.

The slight stiffening of his posture was all the indication Hermione needed to know that their prey was approaching. He threw her a glance out of the corner of his eye and she inclined her head, masking the movement by taking a sip from the drink a waiter had brought. Before they'd arrived, they had agreed on a strategy. While he would be his normal, business self; cold and distant; she would act as if she was here as a friend and favour to him, not interested in the social climbing or intrigues. If asked, she would claim that the only reason she agreed to coming was because of the auction. Neither of them doubted that most hadn't already googled or talked about her and it was a well-known fact that she was very active when it came to philanthropy and good causes. And as an added bonus, there actually was a book on the block she had her eye on. A treatise on the first wizarding council created a few scant years after the first settlements were established. She had a feeling though that she wouldn't be the only one bidding for it. Draco's eyes had held a gleam as he'd talked about it, when she'd asked about the different items up for bid.

"Mr Malfoy! Such a pleasure to finally meet you. Horatio Killian."

Hermione took in the man offering his hand to Draco. Fit, in his mid-to-end forties with greying hair. Tailored robes. Interesting as most american wizards preferred muggle suits. It could be that Killian had come with the express desire to make an impression on Draco and hoped the more traditional robes would endear him to Draco. While he definitely liked his clothes well-made and tended towards a more traditional wardrobe, Draco would never simply judge a person based upon their outfit. He'd done so in his youth and regretted it to this day. The lesson had been hard, but he'd learned it well. As agreed, Hermione excused herself and drifted towards other women in close proximity. She'd already noticed how Mrs Killian was throwing her glances and observing her. Hermione had to give it to the other woman. She was skilled at it. Hermione had been hunted though and those instincts didn't go away. She always knew when someone was watching or following her. While Evelyn Killian was blending in well, the half-bored and overly happy trophy wives apparently her natural habitat, were it not for the raptorlike glint in her eyes. What most of her socialite friends probably never realised was that they were only chess pieces and stepping stones for Evelyn. Hermione wondered what an approach Mrs Killian would take with her.

Smiling and joining in the yawn-inducing conversation about the latest fashion around her, Hermione's warborn senses kept track of her true prey. As expected Evelyn Killian smoothly introduced herself into the discussion. Judging from the surprised looks on some faces, Hermione guessed that her comments were kinder than usual. The women around her were unconsciously shying away from Evelyn, crossing their arms or turning their sides to her in defensive moves. Subtle, but it was behaviour Hermione had observed during the war.

"Ms Granger, correct?" Evelyn asked and offered her hand. Giving a small smile, Hermione shook it. Seemed as if the interrogation was to begin.

"Indeed. I am sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Evelyn's facial control was excellent if it weren't for the slight, annoyed twitch of her cheek. Judging from a hushed gasp, Hermione assumed that Evelyn wasn't used to being an unknown entity and that it smarted her ego that she wasn't immediately recognised. Hermione had seen this reaction before in the high society in the UK. Socialites would get very annoyed when you didn't recall who they were. Wanting to be generally recognised by the masses for hosting fundraisers and the token act of generosity. It was petty of Hermione, but she couldn't help herself. Somehow the pinched look on Evelyn's face, reminding her all too much of Pansy Parkinson, elicited the immediate urge in Hermione to annoy and tease. If there was something she couldn't stand, then it was people who thought they were better than others.

"Evelyn Killian." The american socialite pressed out between her teeth, while trying to maintain her suave smile.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Killian. Do you frequent events such as these often?" Hermione asked, ostensibly trying to make conversation. In reality, she knew almost all there was to know about Evelyn, thanks to Draco's briefing and a few calls she'd made. As she was a fixture in charitable causes and donated heavily, she had built a network of connections in that world. Tapping those to bolster the information received from Draco, which had been based on business, she had asked different questions of her contacts. Evelyn was a coldly smart operator. Sniffing out weaknesses for her husband to exploit and subtly maneouvering other women into situations that would lead to them being indebted to her and then repaying that debt by providing her with intimate information. As such, Hermione knew her to be a highly intelligent and ruthless opponent.

"Oh yes! Since my husband and I have had such good fortune, we feel it is our responsbility to give back to the community." Evelyn simpered in reply to Hermione's question. Nodding, Hermione wasn't fooled for a minute by the innocent-act the other woman was putting on. While she'd never been a good liar, she was good at keeping her emotions to herself. It had been necessary during her time on the run with the boys to keep her emotions under tight control. To not let her sadness and despair paralyze her. It had turned into a habit, which she'd had to work to turn off again when it was once again safe to feel.

Over the next minutes, they discussed current events, charity functions in general and the upcoming auction. Evelyn kept trying to subtly extract information from Hermione. Asking about her work, her investments, her friends and family. All couched in seemingly innocuous chatter. When Hermione decided she had enough, she excused herself with a smile, shaking Evelyn's hand again.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs Killian." She said, trying to keep her grin under control, just as Evelyn tried to keep her frustration off her face. Both of them knew what had happened here and who had come out the winner. It also appeared as if Evelyn wasn't used to not getting her way.

"Likewise, Ms Granger." Evelyn said with a frosty smile. Nodding to each other, they parted ways and Hermione made her way over to the bar. She was in dire need of a firewhiskey. That entire false discussion and syrupy fake sweetness of Evelyn Killian had left a bad taste on her tongue.

Feeling a sizzling awareness at her back, she couldn't help the soft smile tugging at her lips. Turning her head, she met Draco's eyes. Lifting her hand, she indicated for the bartender to make that two firewhiskeys.

"I see your business discussions with Mr Killian left a bad taste in your mouth as well." She quipped. Smiling he leant to the bar next to her.

"Possibly." Picking up his crystal tumbler, he clinked it to hers and leaned a bit closer. "A sip of this might help, but kissing you would most definitely." His eyes sparkled with mischief. Blushing a bit and giggling, she touched his arm and shook her head.

"Behave Mr Malfoy. We're here as friends, remember?" She teased. Putting on a crestfallen look, he laid his other hand over his heart.

"Does that mean I cannot, as they say, cop a feel on the dance floor?"

Biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud, she shook her head. Sipping her drink, she was caught in his gaze. It was...carefree and happy. She'd never seen him like this. Playful and teasing. Light and laughter in his eyes. Despite their reason for being here, or maybe because of it, they felt more alive. Their lives had been defined by conflict, scheming and plots. Life without those was what they both wanted, as they'd seen first-hand what could happen when those plots and schemes took a turn for the worse or were geared towards evil ends. Nonetheless both of them missed the intellectual challenge and the rush of adrenaline. They sought their thrills elsewhere nowadays, but it was nostalgic to return to this kind of intrigue.

Her own eyes glittering with laughter, she nibbled on her lip.

"Perish the thought, Mr Malfoy. That would be the epitome of bad behaviour. What would your parents say?" She admonished in a playful tone. Settling against the bar closer to her, he looked up at the ceiling, thoughtful.

"My mother would be appalled and my father as well. But when she would be distracted, I guess he would nod with approval?" Both had to laugh at that. Their interlude was broken by the tinkle of a bell, announcing the start of the dinner. The musicians had ascended to stage to provide light music to accompany the meal. Offering his arm, he led her towards their table.

xXx

Horatio met up with his wife at their table, eager to get her impressions. Malfoy had proved annoyingly tight-lipped. The Brit's answers were curt and bordering on the insulting. From what he had been able to find out in his research and asking around the club, this was usual for Malfoy. He had banked on his charm and business acumen to get him an in with the other man. That expectation had died a quick death. Taking in Evelyn's strained smile as she greeted him, he realised that his normally brilliant and dependable wife seemed to have run into a smiliar problem. Their table was one of the smaller ones and only seated the two of them. On one hand they didn't want to pay the astronomical amount being charged for a bigger table and on the other they had told others in their social circles that they would use this opportunity in their busy lives to have a romantic date.

"Problems?" He asked quietly, while helping her into her seat. Sighing, she spread her napkin over her lap and tapped the table with her index finger.

"I might have underestimated Ms Granger." She admitted. Looking up, she saw her husband's raised eyebrow. Her admitting to an error in judgment was as rare for her as it was for him. He sat down across from her, moving his chair slightly to the right. She discovered that by doing this, her position now offered her an unobstructed view of Malfoy and Granger's table close-by. Softly taking his hand, she gave him a tender smile. It would surprise many who knew them, but they did love each other. It had been such a relief to her that Horatio didn't only accept her scheming ways, but encouraged her. Supported her. It was just one of the reasons why their marriage was so strong. Others had tried to undermine them by implying infidelity on either his or her side, which amused both of them to no end. They enjoyed a...different sex life than most. Anyone claiming to have been with either of them would sing a much different tune if they knew what exactly they did back home.

During dinner she kept an eye on the other table, while filling Horatio in on the gossip she'd managed to pick up. Later tonight, they would discuss it in more detail. For right now, she just wanted to bring him up to speed. It might open up opportunities for him tonight. In between, they made comments and jokes about the others attending. Much like any other couple would. And neither took this intimacy for granted. Finding the other had been the greatest stroke of luck for both of them. Both had been prepared to sublimate their true desires for the rest of their lives in an effort to make a strategic marriage work. Instead they had found someone who not only accepted those desires, but revelled and indulged in them as well.

As a slow smile spread on her face, he knew that she'd found something they could use. She always did. Flushing a bit, he leaned closer to her over the table.

"Your smile is positively enchanting, my dear. Mind sharing?" He whispered. Grinning, she caressed his cheek. Others wouldn't call her smile enchanting. More diabolic, but then, tastes differed.

"Mr Malfoy told you that Ms Granger was simply a friend and she told me much the same. That she only attended as a favour and for the auction. Given her reputation as a collector of rare books, that might even be true. Both how my friends do you know, who absently clear each others plates of the items the other doesn't like?"

Grinning he kissed her palm.

"Truly?" He asked. Biting her lip, she nodded.

"Oh yes. Seems as if Mr Malfoy doesn't like tomatoes, while Ms Granger seems to object to olives. She took his tomatoes and he her olives. They didn't talk about it, ask the other, didn't even share a look. It was an automatic action." She raised her eyebrows in a telling manner. A matching smile spread on his face.

"Most interesting. Given his history, I wonder what her friends and family in England will think. And her investors, review boards for her inventions..." Sighing he pressed another kiss to her palm. "As always, my love, you are a brilliant fiend."

Biting softly, but increasingly harder on the flesh of his hand until she felt his blood fill her mouth, she licked at the wound. Both shivering in pleasure.

 **AN:** Sorry for the long absence. I became an aunt! Yay! I helped my sister settle in and didn't have much time to write. When I got back to it, I somehow couldn't get back in the groove and the pieces I had in my head wouldn't click. I am still struggling a bit, but I am working on it. Never fear, I **will** finish the story. ;) Have a great one!


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Hermione enjoyed the conversation with Mr and Mrs Holbrook at their table. The other couples were busy dissecting the relationships of the higher echelons of high society on the East coast. None of which interested her. Draco also seemed bored by this empty chatter. As soon as he was able, he rose and offered his hand to her for a dance. Smiling and eagerly anticipating the dance, she rose. Ignoring the glances thrown at them, they joined the others already on the dance floor. Holding her hand and placing his other at the small of her back, he effortlessly flowed along with the music, subtly guiding her with slight pressures of his hands. He was delighted to discover that Hermione didn't need much guidance. Testing his assumption, he led them into a slightly faster and a bit more complicated sequence of steps and turns. Without hesitation or uncertainty, she followed him. Truly delighted, he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. Despite growing up in so-called high society, it was astounding how many of his peers or elders had only bothered to learn the basics. His parents enjoyed dancing, as it was the one public activity in their circles which allowed for the intimacy of close touch. On any other occasion they presented the perfect facade of a cold, distant couple. And since his mother had been his earliest teacher, he'd always found enjoyment in the activity. It was one of the few things he still wanted to be as good at as his father. Meeting her eyes, he saw a similar smile to his own on her face. Tugging her slightly closer than necessary or traditional, he leaned slightly down.

"When you said you liked classical dance, I didn't assume you would be expert at it."

To Hermione's surprise, she blushed at his compliment. It had been ages since she'd blushed like this. As if on a date. A mixture of giddy excitement and butterflies fluttered through her stomach. Her head swirling with possible scenarios of how the evening might progress or end. For the first time in ages, she felt like a teenager. Or at least how she believed a teenager might feel. She'd briefly felt this with Ron, but not truly. Their becoming a couple had seemed an inevitability after the war was over. Everyone expected them to become a couple, including them. Looking back on it, she assumed that it hadn't been a good base for a relationship. As time had worn out. Both Ron and her had gone along with expectations of others. Like his move from helping out in the shop to joining Harry in the auror department, or her accepting a position in the ministry. She knew that she hadn't been as happy as she'd thought she'd be in her positions. Starting off in the department for control of magical creatures, continuing her work for the welfare of house elves. The work wasn't nearly as exciting or satisfying as she'd imagined. Quickly becoming frustrated with the bureaucracy and constant paper battles, she had changed departments over the years, seeking a position that would fulfil her. In the end she had settled on the research position created more or less specifically for her, as the ministry was loath to lose her experience and mind to the corporate world. She could only guess that the unconscious frustration in their jobs, paired with Ron's unwillingness to go to therapy despite her many entreaties had given their relationship the death blow. Not that there had been much left to kill in that department. They lived in the same apartment, but that was about it. They'd hardly talked anymore, apart from the polite greetings in the mornings. They might as well only have been room-mates. While his infidelity had wounded her, it hadn't hurt as much as everyone had assumed. At that point in time, they hadn't been intimate in months, possibly a year. As such, it hadn't been about the intimate betrayal, but much more about the breach of trust and betrayal of their friendship. In the following weeks after the discovery of Ron's affair, lines seemed to be drawn and sides chosen. Each of their meetings and conversations became more strained, until finally they descended into name-calling and open hostility.

But this, now, with Draco, felt completely different. As her conversations with Harry and Ginny showed, no one had expected any kind of relationship between them, except a platonic one. Possibly a friendship, but a distant one. Given their previous history, she guessed it was a surprise. But maybe it was good that no one was pushing them or expecting them to make it work. When it became more publicly known that they were dating, especially back at home, the opposite would be much more the case. On both of their sides. Her family and friends would be suspicious and she guessed that his family would be outright hostile or disappointed. Though she assumed that they had turned over a new leaf, or Andromeda wouldn't spend any time at the manor. At least Narcissa. Would she be open to her only son being with a muggleborn? Or would she be against it from the start? From what Draco had shared, she seemed only concerned with his happiness at this point. Taking a firm stance for him and seeing to the dissolution of the arranged marriage agreement Lucius had brokered.

The tempo of the song picked up and he led them into a tighter turn, pulling her back from her musings. Her feet moved along with his, their bodies gliding along in harmony. His smile brightened and there was a glint in his eye she couldn't resist. Smiling as well, she added a bit of flair to their next turn. Raising an eyebrow, his smile turned playful and improvised himself. Within moments they had left the traditional moves behind and were simply enjoying having found a partner who could follow along. As the song ended, they clapped along with the other dancers. A slow piece came next and they didn't even think about leaving the dance floor. Moving closer, relaxing their stances, they simply enjoyed and softly swayed to the music.

xXx

Martina Holbrook took a sip from her coffee and watched her husband's friend dance with his companion. Leaning over to her husband, she snuggled into him, remembering their wedding dance.

"They make a beautiful couple." She murmured to him. Confused he turned to her, to then follow her line of sight. Smiling at her, he shook his head at her romantic side.

"Sorry, love, but they are only friends." He said softly, not wanting to unwittingly spread rumours. Martina gave him a pitying look and slightly shook her head.

"I love you, James, but sometimes you can be so blind." She murmured. Confused he frowned and took another look. Still he only saw two friends sharing a dance. Shrugging he took another sip of his coffee. Women, he decided, wanted to see romance everywhere. He guessed it was because of Mr Malfoy's cool demeanour and old-world manners that they liked to imagine romantic scenarios for the man. About needing a woman to warm his cold heart and life. Seeing the slight longing in his wife's eyes as she watched the dancers, he sighed under his breath and rose. While he didn't enjoy it, he knew that his wife loved dancing, so he would try for her.

"Would you give me this dance?" He asked with a playful smile. Beaming Martina rose, took his hand and basically dragged him along. Chuckling he let her.

xXx

After an hour or two, the musicians took their final bows to polite applause and filtered off the stage. Waiters passed through the crowd, offering hors d'oeuvres and flutes with champagne. Porters were setting up chairs in front of the stage and clearing the same stage from the chairs the musicians had sat upon. The auction pieces were moved closer and an officious man in a very proper muggle suit with a bow tie prepared the lectern having been set up in the middle of the stage. Bit by bit, the guests filtered to sit in the seats already, eagerly discussing the items up for bid. Hermione took in the people around her, having tagged a few as competition from the snatches of conversation she had been able to catch. It seemed there were a few other collectors apart from Draco and her among the people present. What she thought curious was that she'd never heard about most of them before. Theirs was a tight-knit community, as the books they collected were so rare and most of them one-of-a-kind. Taking the seat offered gentlemanly by Draco, she arranged her skirt over her crossed legs. Leaning over to him, she couldn't help but breathe in his scent. Clean, male and sexy. Nibbling on her lip, she tried to reign in her hormones and the urge to caress his chest.

"I've overheard that there's a lot of interest for Lindwright's book, but I didn't recognise most of the names. And I know most serious collectors." She whispered. He leaned closer, which didn't make it easier for her to not touch him in a manner far from friendly and much more intimate.

"That's because the only serious collector in this room, apart from you and me, is Henry Abernathy over there. The others simply buy the books as investments and for bragging rights. Not because they actually appreciate what the tomes they possess and buy represent. They showcase them in their homes or offices, but that is the extent of what they do with them." A condescending snarl on his face at such ignorance. He was surprised to see it echoed on her face.

"What a waste and hypocrisy. They should invest in cars or something else and leave those books to those who are serious about it." She growled. Smirking he nodded.

"Indeed, but then we would have to convince them to get rid of their paintings as well, which they often don't even display, but lock away in their bank vaults." He murmured. Snorting she shook her head.

"Philistines! At least lend them to a museum!" She grumbled, her cheeks flushing. Taking her in, he fisted his hand in his lap to keep himself from smoothing the lines on her brow and bracketing that kissable mouth. Later, he promised himself.

The gavel knocked on the lectern and the assembled fell silent. The officious man looked imperiously at them and cleared his throat.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the annual Jupiter Gentlemen's Club charity auction. We have exquisite items up for bid and all proceeds of the auction will be for the benefit of the Salem widows and orphan fund. A worthy cause, deserving of your generous contribution. Without further ado, let us begin with the first item." He swept out his hand. Carefully two porters wearing white gloves placed delicate crystal glasses on the small table next to the lectern, so that all could see.

"A full set of Waterford Lismore crystal glasses and wine decanter from eighteen-forty-one. An original design of the company's first incarnation. As you were able to see for yourself, it is in pristine condition. Bids will start at two thousand Dollars. Thank you, sir." Even before he had stopped speaking, wands were raised to indicate bids. As a result, the crystal soon found a new home. Bit by bit, the items were auctioned off and each time the gavel came down with an enthusiastic "Sold!" from the auctioneer, polite applause rang through the hall for the successful bidder.

Sitting up straighter when Lindwright's book was carefully placed on a stand, Hermione went over her options in her head. She had been astounded what some of the people present were prepared to pay for some of the items up for bid. She knew what the book was worth through her own experience, but it appeared that was not what counted here. She would have to up the limit she'd set herself. As the first wands were raised, she decided to wait. It quickly turned out that the bidding would be decided between Draco, Mr Abernathy, a man she didn't know by name in a flashy tux and herself. Bit by bit the bids rose and she became nervous. Abernathy dropped out at three thousand, shaking his head in disappointment. She understood, as she was very close now to her own limit. Making quick calculations in her head, she raised her wand again.

"Four thousand five hundred." She called out. The auctioneer smiled and pointed at her with his gavel.

"Four thousand five hundred from the lovely lady in dark green. Can I hear five?" He asked the crowd. Nervous she looked to Draco, who had turned to her as well.

"Will you allow me to come by to read it?" He asked in a soft whisper. Taking his hand, she gave a soft squeeze.

"Any time." She whispered back. Inclining his head, he raised her hand and softly kissed her knuckles.

"Then I concede." He allowed with a smirk and a sparkle in his eye. Their moment was broken by the call of a higher bid.

"Five thousand five hundred!" The unknown man threw both of them a superior smirk when they turned to him. Angry, but not so impulsive as to forget her own limit, she sighed and sat back.

"A pity." She murmured. Not taking his eyes off her for a moment, Draco took her in. It would shoot their plan of only appearing friends to smithereens, but he found that he didn't care. Let the others talk and gossip. He wanted the world to know that she was his. He had worked to change himself, had apologised to all who would receive and hear him out. He had changed and was continuing to work on himself. She had been willing to be his date and not just as a friend from the start. He had suggested the friend angle to protect her reputation.

"Seven thousand." He drawled, raising his wand. Gasps ran through the assembled and all turned to him. Chief among them the other bidder, whose face had turned a rather unhealthy shade of puce. It seemed as if he wanted to raise his wand again. Draco only raised one imperial eyebrow and the wand lowered. The gavel came down.

"Sold for the most generous sum of seven thousand Dollars to the elegant gentleman with the white-blond hair. Congratulations, sir." The auctioneer trilled in excitement, while applause and whispers of the crowd started up. Looking to his right, he wanted to extend invitations to Hermione that she could read the book at any time she wanted, he was surprised to find her gone. Absentmindedly accepting congratulations from the others around him, he searched the room for her. Had he done something wrong? Worried he got to his feet.

"Excuse me." Pushing through the crowd, he made his way over to the bar. He couldn't see her and leaned closer to the barman.

"Sorry? I wondered whether you'd seen my companion. Brunette, silver tiara, dark green dress with jewel applications?" He was heartened when the barman's eyes lightened up at his description.

"Yeah, I saw her. She came by here, pounded a firewhiskey straight down and went over there. That hallway there." He pointed. Thanking the barman, Draco headed there himself. Maybe she only needed to use the rest room. But why hadn't she said anything? In the hallway a few people stood in small groups, mingling. He nodded to some he knew, still looking for her. Not finding her distinctive hair and dress, he moved further along. If she was in the women's rest room, he had a problem. Lingering outside would be absolutely out of the question, but he had to know what was wrong.

"...don't know what her problem was. She bumped into me, not even apologising properly and stomped off. We're not even supposed to go further into the club! I have no idea what she was thinking." The snippy complaint from his left had him stop. Knowing from experience that Hermione Granger would go where she wanted, he left the hallway in the direction the complaining woman had indicated. The sounds of the gala muted behind him and after a few steps he was alone in the new hallway. Stopping and tilting his head, he listened. Faintly he heard the clicks of women's heels on the marble of the club's floor. Following the sound, he soon found Hermione pacing up and down.

"Hemione?" He softly called out. Swirling her dress around her legs, she turned to him. Her eyes were glittering with anger. Confused he closed the distance. "Is something the matter?" He asked, going over in his head what could possibly have happened to make her angry. If someone had insulted her, he would be glad to give that someone a lesson in manners.

"Oh, something is the matter! What was that back there?" She asked in a snarl. Confused he looked back the way he'd come and then to her.

"What do you mean?" He was at a loss. Throwing up her hands, she snorted and shook her head.

"You, paying that exorbitant amount of money!" She was surprised to see his face closing down into a neutral mask. It was a wonder that there wasn't an audible clap. He seemed...colder somehow.

"I am sorry to have offended you. I will ask for my car to be brought round." He turned to leave, but she stopped him by touching his arm. When his eyes met hers, there wasn't any of the usual warmth there.

"What is going on?" She asked. Her ire cooling at his behaviour.

"Nothing. I will escort you home. You may keep the book." And that quick her temper was back.

"I **may** keep the book? May?! What kind of person do you take me for, Draco? Do I look like I need charity or hand-outs?" She raged. It was stupid and she didn't know why this was stirring her anger so much, but it rankled. His stony expression angered her even further. He seemed so distant and uninvolved. She wanted to break that facade. Wanted him to react.

"No. Currently you look like a child having a tantrum." His voice was cutting in its precise enunciation. Her lips curled in distaste.

"Look who's talking. Throwing money around as if it was nothing, very mature. I believe all of the people in that room knew how rich you are. And I don't need an escort! I can take care of myself!" Her hands were now fisted at her sides, her body vibrating with emotion. She consciously took hold of the wild energy inside her, eager to punish, defend.

"I saw you wanted the book and I intended to gift it to you. My word choice was unfortunate. I am well aware that you can take care of yourself. I am sorry to have offended you. Have a good evening." He forced himself to bow his head and to turn from her. His entire body was humming with anger, but he held it back. She had been the target of his anger too many times. No matter how unfair and hurtful he found her reaction, he wouldn't lash out at her. Apparently though, she wouldn't give him a choice. Pulling on his arm, she forced him to turn back around.

"Don't walk away when I am talking to you!" She groused. The flash of passion in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, her chest heaving in anger, it all combined to transform his anger into a different kind of smouldering emotion. Pressing her up against the wall, her hands caught above her head by one of his, his other delicately tracing her alluring curves with just the tips of his fingers. Both of them were breathing heavily, their faces inches apart. Tension was thick in the air and despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but stretch herself against his deliciously muscled frame.

"Let me go." She breathed. She'd intended for the demand to be spoken in a clearer, more commanding manner, but her body wasn't cooperating. Especially as he was leaning close, the tip of his nose caressing her cheek.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He whispered straight into her ear, his lips kissing her cheek with each word. Both shuddered as he pressed himself even closer, inserting one of his legs between hers. Heat surged and when she looked into his eyes, his pupils were as widely blown as hers.

"This is hardly the behaviour of a gentleman." She admonished. Sighing he nuzzled close to her.

"When I act the gentleman, you become angry with me and when I don't you ask me to let you go." He murmured. His voice tinged with a lost kind of sadness and vulnerability. Biting her lip, she rubbed her cheek to his in caress, sighing in the end.

"I am sorry. I don't know what came over me." Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, she searched her own mind. As he bid on the book she wanted, obviously for her, something inside her had rebelled. She didn't exactly know what and why. She had always been independent and by investing the money she'd received as part of her receiving the order of Merlin, she'd had the fiscal freedom to live life on her terms. She'd helped Ron and Harry set up their accounts, though when she did, she had to do a lot of manouvering with Gringotts. They had been responsible for a rather spectacular robbery of one of their safest vaults.  
She guessed it was because his debonair use of money had reminded her of how Ron had begun to throw money around as he became more and more enamoured with the picture the papers painted of him as the vaunted war hero. It had ended with him thinking that whenever they had a fight, she only wanted a new trinket. It had made her feel cheap and unimportant. If she wanted this new relationship with Draco to succeed, she had to open up about this and other behaviours that had scarred her. Otherwise they would end up in the same exact situation again.

"It just...it reminded me of how Ron would buy things for me, the more expensive the better, and expect me to be grateful." She admitted, blushing in shame. Releasing her hands, he softly cupped her cheek instead, his other hand on her hip. The tension between them eased at her words. Leaning his brow to hers, the shadowy alcove became their own little intimate haven.

"I would never attempt to buy your affection. I know better than most how empty such gestures can make you feel." He reassured her. Breathing deep, she felt much lighter. The action increased the tension again in him, as her breasts rubbed enticingly at his chest. Her shy smile didn't make it any easier on him to restrain himself and deny the instinct to kiss her. It appeared that she wasn't fighting her instincts. Softly she pressed her lips to his in a tentative kiss. Crowding her even more, he sank into it and the softness of her embrace. Unhurried, light of heart and completely oblivious to their surroundings, they sipped at each other's lips. Nestling close to his chest, her right hand drew imaginary designs on it.

"Thank you for understanding. Please, keep the book." As she expected, he leaned back to meet her eyes, again framed in strained lines. Caressing those same lines, she smiled. "You bought it after all and it gives me an excellent excuse to drop by now and again."

His frown disappeared immediately and he started to chuckle. Tucking her closer, he kissed the tip of her nose.

"Sneaky woman. I like it. Agreed. I will keep the book and you can come by anytime to read it. Or others." He had to chuckle again at how her eyes lit up at his invitation to browse his collection. "Now I know never to let you close to the family library. You'll probably vanish for years." Both laughed at his joke and she softly hit his chest.

"Don't you dare. When we visit back home, I get to see your entire collection and you get to see the rest of mine."

Smiling brightly, he kissed her deeper than before.

"Deal, Ms Granger." He whispered. Linking her hand to his, weaving her fingers through his, she pulled him towards the end of the hall and the party. Biting her lower lip, she took him in. Damn, but he looked fine. And he was all hers. She would make him loose that cool, controlled shell, but not tonight. She wanted him all to herself when that happened.

"Come on. Let's collect your spoils and go. Or did you need more time with Mr Killian the creepy."

Laughing again, he let her pull him along. Kissing her knuckles, he was relieved that their first fight ended so amicably. And without any violence. He knew that they both rode a razor's edge when it came to their tempers. Pushed too far and the beasts inside them would respond, possibly take over. Something he wouldn't risk; at least not as long as they were surrounded by others and in an unwarded building. His apartment and the duelling gym were locales that he could let go and he assumed she as well. Seeing how passionate she was, he didn't doubt that one of their disagreements might end up in a duel. Maybe it was a bad sign that he was looking forward to it.

xXx

Jane sat alone with Lucrecia at the table Blaise had booked for them in one of the best Italian restaurants in town. How had it come to his?! She'd talked to Blaise about how she was uncomfortable when alone with his mother and still he'd traipsed off to greet someone. The moment they'd entered, the owner himself had arrived and fawned over Lucrecia. There simply wasn't another word for it. Astonishingly, the man seemed to know her. As well as Blaise. Jane had never been here with Blaise before and thus wondered how her boyfriend knew the owner. It didn't help that all three spoke in rapid fire Italian. Pulling on the bit of more refined table manners she'd managed to pick up by hanging out with Hermione, she set her utensils down, dabbed her mouth with the pristine cloth napkin before taking a dainty sip of her wine. Lucrecia was watching her the entire time, loosely holding her own wine glass. Raising an eyebrow, Jane met her gaze.

"As we have a moment of time alone, Ms Zabini, I think it is a good time to get a few things straightened out." Jane said, holding on to her courage as she came under the scrutiny of Lucrecia's cool, superior gaze.

"Oh? Do we have things to straighten out? I was under the impression that everything was going swimmingly for the both of us." Lucrecia said with a smirk. Jane breathed deeply, her nostrils flaring. She wouldn't lose it and make a scene. Nope. No matter how entertaining the idea and image were of just chucking her wine at the woman's smarmy face and storming out.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I am afraid you are acting under the mistaken assumption that I am some airheaded bimbo without a spine. I am prepared to act civil with you for Blaise, but do not mistake that polite behaviour for meekness. I am not your servant and I am not an idiot. Stop treating me like either." Jane said, keeping eye contact and her voice steady. It wasn't easy. For a moment silence reigned supreme and Jane had to stop herself from fidgeting. Smirking, Lucrecia raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and chuckled.

"Finally. And here I thought it would take at least another three or four days before I got a reaction. I am heartened to find that you are not just another pretty face, but that you actually have not only something between the ears, but a spine to boot."

Grumbling Jane again reminded herself that dousing Lucrecia in wine was not the way to go. All the condescension she'd had to endure over the last days were a test?! Seriously?! It seemed as if her facial expression had given her away.

"Oh, don't pout, darling. It's awful for your complexion, you know? And what did you expect? For me to welcome you with open arms? Hardly. Through some sort of trickery, you've convinced my Tesoro that he is in love. Arguing with him about it would only cement the notion. Instead I'll simply wait until this fad he has passes. In the meantime, I prefer having his girlfriend be someone tolerable." Shrugging, Lucrecia sat back, relaxed and composed. Again Jane repeated her mantra that throwing beverages in a high-class restaurant was not something to do. Breathing deep through her nose, she brought her temper under control. Pasting on a smile on the off chance that Blaise would look their way, she leaned over the table.

"I do not know what's happened or who hurt you, but finding love is a beautiful thing. Does it hurt when it doesn't work out? Of course it does, but that won't hold me back. And it seems as if it won't stop Blaise either. Seems the only coward here is you." She finished in a low voice, fully cognizant that it was a low blow, but she'd had it. Her temper was also simmering right under the surface, barely restrained, which had her lashing out. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair since she barely knew the other woman and what had shaped her, but after the degradations, snide comments and veiled insults of the last days, Jane was at the end of her rope. And the comment had hit Lucrecia. The older woman's face closed down. Her eyes, which had always had a wryly amused sparkle in them were only cold now. The condescending tilt of her lips had straightened out and where they before had been lush, they were now thin and hard. Moments passed in silence and Jane was scrambling in her head for anything she could say to defuse this. While she had been all for getting things straightened out with Lucrecia, she didn't want her as an enemy. And it seemed as if that was exactly what the older woman was becoming right in front of her eyes.

"Oh, the ignorance of youth!" Lucrecia practically spat, her voice dripping vicious sarcasm. "So full of assumptions, spouting 'wisdoms' about things they barely understand, let alone grasp. Call me a coward if it makes you feel better. A decade or two hence, you think back on this moment and the absolute drivel you just spouted! Love is a lie. A fairy tale told to children and only believed by vapid teenagers. It is a disease. Unless you guard yourself, it will infect you and then destroy you. Leaving you broken. Never the same. And like the insidious drug it is, once you've tasted it, you stupidly long for it again. No matter that you know it will again destroy you." Progressively her voice had gotten more intense and her tone more biting. And for the first time since Jane had met her, Lucrecia looked her age. Swallowing and raising her hands a bit, Jane sat up straighter.

"I am sorry. The coward comment was out of line. I cannot imagine what happened to make you feel that way, but I disagree. Put it down to my age if it makes you feel better, but I have seen that love is real. I have felt it and while it is sad and at times painful when it fades, it is still worth pursuing." She softened her voice. Confrontation wasn't what she wanted. Judging from Lucrecia's tense jaw, it was highly unlikely they'd ever see eye to eye on this, but Jane hadn't been lying. She'd seen love, maybe even true love. Not only in her parents, but in her paternal grandparents as well. After years of ups and downs, both couples were still together and still crazy about each other. At times to Jane's and other relatives' dismay. Especially when it concerned her parents making googly eyes at each other. Jane knew for a fact that love was real and to find it with a partner something to aspire to and actively search for.

"I'll look you up in twenty years. Let's see whether you are still as convinced then." Lucrecia simply said and took a healthy sip of her wine. Jane inclined her head, relieved that the situation hadn't escalated; much.

"Are you two bonding?" Blaise asked with a smile, as he sat down next to Jane, looping his arm around her shoulders. Breathing easier, she leaned into him.

"Of course, Tesoro." Lucrecia lied easily, smiling lazily for her son's benefit. When she met Jane's eyes however, that smile dimmed a bit and her dark eyes were flinty hard. Sighing Jane snuggled closer to Blaise. Great. This had gone terrifically downhill. She only hoped that Hermione's evening had gone better. Then she could help her fix this somehow. While Jane hoped that Lucrecia wouldn't constantly hang around, it would make it easier on everyone if they were at least cordial. Because what she felt for Blaise was nothing light or small and she hoped that this would last for a long time.

 **AN:** Greetings, friends! :) I know I am being slow. Sorry. I am still struggling to get the story to where I want it. And I want only to upload quality content that makes sense. I have worked out most of my problems, but I am still wrangling with a few plot points. Hope you continue to enjoy and I will do my best to upload the next chapter soon. Have a great one!


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

The coming weeks were a blur of activity as the next competition was coming up. Professor Malfoy and Zabini were working them hard and the exercises and assignments in Professor Granger's classes were more hands-on and in context. It made some assignments easier, but others much harder, as they were expected to substitute ingredients and that required in-depth knowledge of what each of the ingredients could do and what their interactions and reactions with other ingredients would turn them into. It meant long study sessions for almost all of them. Some, like Gunter or Francis had enough knowledge and/or experience with the material. But they were the exception and while they may not need to study, they were more than happy and willing to help their peers. Suffice it to say, that midnight runs to the supermarket for more energy drinks and coffee became a usual occurrence. This night wasn't any different. The Southies, Francis, Gunter, Lorelei and Sabrina sat or lounged around the common room of Duelling Hall. All of them except for Francis and Gunter with furrows of concentration on their foreheads and their eyes glued to their textbooks. Professor Granger had advised there would be a test day after tomorrow and all of them wanted to be prepared. Emilio was struggling, as well as Francesca. The last paper they'd handed in had been returned with C-. It threatened their grade average and both felt the pressure to keep their scholarship. Gunter had tried to soothe their fears, advising that a bit of slipping in grades in the beginning was nothing to worry about and common. All the new experiences, the new stimuli, would distract. As soon as they became used to it all and adapted, their grades would get back on track. Emilio and Francesca didn't agree though. They felt well adapted. Their problem was that their school hadn't been able to prepare them for this level. The funding hadn't been sufficient and their teacher apathetic after more than twenty years of trying to teach at a public school and receiving a laughable pittance of a wage.

"Alright Francesca." Gunter started again. "Taking into account the presence of mandrake at a potency of twelve percent, due to the dilution with moondew extract, what do you need to balance the potion and reach the desired effect?"

No one looked up. They were all scribbling in their notebooks and riffling through their books, trying to figure it out themselves. Francis bit his lip, his eyes wide. Gunter's mouth twitched, slightly shaking his head. It was obvious that Francis knew the answer and wanted to explain, but that would defeat the purpose of the exercise.

Groaning in frustration, Francesca burrowed her fingers into her hair. Defeated she stared at the empty page in front of her. Her head was empty. Nothing…closing her eyes she tried to remember anything from the lectures of Professor Granger, but all she got were panicked thoughts about what she would do, if she lost the scholarship. Breathing deep, she tried to calm down.

"I don't know." She admitted finally, disheartened. "Three and a half ounces of ground unicorn horn." She shrugged. Soft tapping to her shoulder had her look up. Gunter's face was right there, his kind eyes smiling.

"That is correct." He winked. Gasping she sat straight, looking to the others, as if fearing Gunter would pull a prank. None of them would do that and she realised that immediately.

"Yes!" Squealing in glee, she raised her arms, closing her eyes in relief. "Thank you, God! Finally!"

The others chuckled at her small celebration, but understood the impulse.

"Nice one." Emilio congratulated her and they high-fived. It gave both of them hope. Maybe it was a fluke, but it was an improvement. It was hard work, but as long as they kept at it, the stuff would stick. They'd never outperform Gunter or Francis, but maybe at least catch up.

A thud on the window interrupted their small, impromptu celebration. All the Southies were immediately on high alert, their wands in their hands. Old reflexes died hard and sudden loud noises in their neighbourhood never meant anything good. Especially when they were close to your residence. Francis and Lorelei took them in with surprise, while Gunter rose to take a look.

"What do you think that was?" Sabrina asked, rubbing one of her eyes. Some were surprised at how serious she took this, but that sense of accomplishment she'd gotten after winning her first duel…according to most of her peers her studies here were an indulgence. No one expected her to make a true career. The wealth of her family ensuring she would never truly have to work. Her stint at Salem Uni simply a way to network and to possibly get a lead on a promising husband. That moment however…was so fulfilling. She hadn't won because of money, influence or the pretty smile she'd used to devastating effect. No. She'd won that first duel due to knowledge, diligent studying and team work. And it had been her. She had done this, on her own. And it was freeing. It had given her new purpose. Where before she didn't truly aspire to anything more than an attractive prospect, she now contemplated a career. Maybe as a Guard, like Lorelei or as a duellist. For that to be a viable option, she had to knuckle down with the rest of them.

"Anything?" Jamal's question had them lean toward the window, through which Gunter had clambered outside. Carefully climbing back in, Gunter raised a brick.

"Some idiot decided to attempt and throw this through the window." He set it down on the table and pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. Rolling her eyes, Keisha sat back.

"You kidding me? Any idiot can see it's reinforced crystal. That thing would bounce back and not even leave a scratch." She shook her head at that much idiocy. Chuckling Gunter dialled and lifted the cell phone to his ear.

"It left a scratch all right." He said and pointed. They turned to the brick and now noted the bit of blood on it under the powerful light of the lamps around them. None of them knew who started, but soon they were all chuckling and when James of all people decided to re-enact the asinine brick-thrower being stricken by his own projectile, it was all over. That was how campus security found them; laughing and in part rolling over the floor, holding their bellies.

xXx

Sighing in pleasure, Hermione snuggled deeper into her favourite corner of her couch, readjusted her blanket to fully cover her feet and settled back in to read. It had been a hectic day, as her students of her advanced potions class had a practical test today. It had been lengthy and difficult and she'd had to supervise. After that she'd had her class with the duelling team. It may be unkind, but she'd had to dumb some of it down. It was a slow process to get the team members on the level they wanted them. A nice, quiet evening with a good book and a glass of wine was exactly what she needed.

The trilling of a cell phone intruded on her serenity. Frowning she looked up. Rustling paper next to her.

"Sorry, that's mine. I forgot to mute it." Draco apologised as he put down the papers in his hands. In the last few days she had gotten curious messages and replies concerning her investments and portfolio. While she was capable of getting to the bottom of this on her own, it would take her time and not a little amount of effort. Economics wasn't one of her favourite fields. She knew how to deal with it, but it was tedious. When Draco had noted her absentmindedness, she had confessed her confusion and he'd offered his assistance. Which had turned out to be an excellent idea. He moved through her finances and the legal mumbo-jumbo her bank and financier had sent her at an amazing speed. As he'd confessed to her, it relaxed him. Playing with money was a hobby of his, which had led to her being a bit bug-eyed and throwing their fiscal difference into stark relief. His story about how his father had handed him ten thousand galleons on his tenth birthday and told him to invest it and play with it had her swallow dryly. While she was well-off now, she still had a hard time grasping the amount of money Lucius Malfoy had basically thrown out the window. What could a ten-year-old invest in and make money off of? Apparently a lot, as Draco told her with no small amount of pride, that he'd tripled his investment within a month and a half.

His freakish financial acumen aside, she liked evenings like these. They would head to either his apartment or hers, have dinner and then sit and work on their own projects, while simply being together. It wasn't awkward or difficult. Sometimes they'd put aside their documents or books while at her apartment and would watch a movie. She'd introduced him to her favourites and she found it cute how fascinated he was. When he'd told her that he'd never been to a cinema and she knew that he didn't own a TV, she wanted to show him. It was part of their process of getting to know each other on a deeper level and she adored that he especially seemed to enjoy superhero movies like 'The Avengers' or 'Captain America'. She was planning a video night with Jane and Blaise to then show the men the Lord of the Rings trilogy, as it concerned magic. She wondered how they would react to that.

At his concerned frown when he read the caller ID, she sat up, all thoughts about video night forgotten.

"Campus security?" He murmured to himself, confused. Sharing a look with her, he picked up. "Malfoy." Listening intently, he nodded a few times. "Thank you for alerting me. I will be by in a few minutes."

Hearing his worried voice, she kicked off the blanket and sat up straight, putting her book aside.

"What's wrong?" She asked, trying to think what would lead to campus security calling Draco at this time of night. Pulling over his boots to get them back on, he turned to her.

"Gunter reported a brick being thrown. Don't worry. None of them were hurt." He reassured her, carefully pulling his pant legs over his boots. While relieved that none of their students were hurt, she was still unsettled by the mere fact that someone had felt the impulse to throw a brick at the building.

"Are the children all right?" She asked. She knew that while they might not have been hurt physically, the psychological effect of such an act could hurt just as much. Chuckling a bit, he leaned toward her, resting his weight on the arm he had behind her on the backrest of the couch.

"Yes. According to campus security, they were laughing. Apparently all of them were well aware that the windows are high quality crystal and were making fun of the idiot, their words, who had thrown the projectile." A playful smile lifted the corners of his mouth. It calmed her and she couldn't help but smile herself. Leaning into him, she caressed his cheek.

"Check on them. Call me later?" She asked, knowing both of them would not be able to relax until they knew that the children were all right. Closing his eyes and leaning into her hand, he breathed deep. He'd find out whoever cut his evening short with her and let them know exactly how angry he was. Kissing her palm, he leaned his brow to hers.

"As my lady commands." He murmured, both of them smiling. Getting up, she escorted him to the door.

"Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow?" She asked, biting her lower lip. It was still a thrill for her that they were dating now. Openly. Each time she asked him she was nervous and butterflies taking flight. Each time he would answer in the positive. Only rarely would he have to decline due to a former engagement. And he was always falling all over himself to apologise when he couldn't make it. Even blushing. Which is why she at times hoped he didn't have time, as she found him so adorable when he was apologising.

"I am looking forward to it." He replied with a smile, shuffling his feet. Grinning she pulled him down and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Talk to you later." She softly said. Smiling he nodded and turned towards the elevator.

xXx

The ruckus of campus security arriving and taking statements as well as searching for further clues as to the perpetrator outside Duelling Hall had roused many of the other students, who were milling about the common room and were excitedly discussing who might be responsible. As the former duelling team had been expelled almost to a man, the pickings were slim.

"Well, maybe they snuck back on to campus." Jeremy tried to defend his theory. He'd never had many interactions with the former duelling team. The one time he'd interacted with some of them, was because his father had dragged him along to some garden party of a friend and business partner of his. At first, he'd been happy that there were people of his own age there, but that quickly turned sour as those guys were only interested in swapping stories about how many girls they'd slept with and describing those occurrences in great detail. While Jeremy liked to think of himself as a ladies' man, he also believed in being discreet. In his mind, it had much more class and impact to be discreet. It had only gotten worse when they'd caught sight of his little sister. His barely sixteen-year-old little sister. His father was at first appalled at his behaviour, but when he'd explained why he had started a fist-fight, his distant father had patted him on the back with pride in his eyes and told the angered parents of the other participants of the fight to fuck off. It was the first time Jeremy had heard his father swear, but both agreed that the safety and well-being of the youngest member of their family was worth defending vehemently. Since that moment, he'd believed the members of the former duelling team capable of anything. Astonishingly, despite their relatively low IQ's, in his opinion, he'd never been able to pin anything on them. Now he saw his chance. Before any of them weaselled their way back on campus for next semester when his little sister would be starting.

"Come off it, Jer." Lorelei drawled, cupping her mug between her hands. "Once the gates are closed for the night, there is no climbing over them. Trust me, I know." She finished on a sigh. Perking up, Jeremy sidled closer to her reclining form on the couch.

"Ooh! Do tell, Ms Felidae. What nefarious deeds have you been up to after hours, that it required you to climb the fence?" He waggled his eyebrows for effect. Sabrina perked up at this as well. Groaning Lorelei covered her face with one hand.

"Nothing salacious, Jer. Party at a frat house that went too long. I didn't want to crash with dozens of drunken frat boys who couldn't keep their hands to themselves, so I made my way back to campus. Took me ages to run down a security wizard to let me in." She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. Sabrina giggled, while Jeremy crossed his arms a little disappointed at the anticlimactic ending.

"Thank you, Guard Norris. If you would kindly keep me in the loop?" Professor Malfoy's voice came from the entrance hall, having all of them sit up and look towards it. Raising his eyebrows, Jeremy looked to the others.

"Who called in the big guns?" He asked in a whisper. All of them shrugged or shook their heads. Gunter had called campus security, simply because throwing a brick was a whole different ball game to normal pranks/bullying. It hinted at the willingness to do actual harm.

Their musings were cut short, when their distinguished professor entered the common room taking them in.

Looking at his charges, Draco was relieved to see that they seemed no worse for wear. Campus security had already given him a preliminary report, which had included that none of the students of Duelling Hall had been hurt. The brick had been taken in as evidence and would be handed over to the Guard and their forensic team. Since there was blood, possibly from the perpetrator on it, all hoped for a speedy resolution. Magical tracing had a good track record, especially when using blood, but most older or influential families made sure that their bodily fluids as well as hair etcetera were protected. As a potioneer and former Death Eater, he knew better than most what a criminal or dangerous individual was able to do with blood, hair or other parts of another person. Shelving those thoughts for later, he entered the common room.

"Are you all right?" He asked, checking each of them. At a glance they all looked relaxed and at ease.

"We're fine, Professor." Jamal replied for them, giving Draco a reassuring smile. Nodding, Draco nonetheless took a seat on the arm rest of a chair.

"That is good to hear. Campus security is about done with their sweep of the area. They'll hand over the investigation to the Guard, so some of you might be called upon by them to answer questions. If you feel uncomfortable doing that on your own, please let me know and I'll make sure that someone is present with you." He made sure to meet their eyes and to broadcast calm.  
For the next half hour he stayed with them, talking and simply showing presence. He wanted his students to feel safe in their own dorm. It angered him that someone had dared to attack them so cowardly. The ring of his cell phone interrupted him, as he was in the middle of answering a question of Lorelei.

"If you would excuse me?" He asked her with a kind smile. Returning the smile, she nodded. Rising, he lifted the phone and answered. "Hermione? No, no, everything is fine."

The moment the students heard their female professor's name, they perked up. The girls bit their lips to keep their grins from splitting their faces as they watched their reserved professor's features soften and lighten. He even chuckled!

"Yes, the Guard just left. I was just spending some time with them." Draco noted the students watching him as he talked and blushing a bit, he turned towards the hall and walked a few steps away. "I just want to make sure that there are no ill effects and that the Guard hadn't intimidated them." He smiled. "Who would have thought? Draco Malfoy, protector of the innocent." And while he said it in a slightly sad tone, he was surprised that it was true. How curious life was.

"Pardon?" Her voice had jostled him from his thoughts. Smiling he leaned to the door jamb. "Ah, yes. Unfortunately I haven't found a tattoo artist yet. At least not one I thought I could trust."

Emilio perked up at this. A tattoo artist? Professor M? Frowning he looked to the others around him for confirmation. Keisha raised an eyebrow at him, inclining her head in their professor's direction, mouthing 'What?'. Licking his lips, Emilio stood. He'd jumped over his shadow and approached Professor Zabini to be his mentor, as he found Professor Malfoy intimidating. Through the increased contact with Zabini, he'd invariably met Professor Malfoy more often. Emilio still found Malfoy intimidating, but he'd also noted that there were other sides to the professor. Kinder sides. During their discussions about Eliana's situation he even seemed fatherly. But there was an air about Malfoy…something inaccessible. Even forbidding. But the man had helped him. Helped him a lot. And now he might be able to help him.

"Professor?" He asked softly. The grey eyes of his Professor turned to him, the cell phone still to his ear.

"Yes?"

Emilio swallowed, shuffling a bit.

"I know a guy." He said, rolling his shoulders. For a time they simply looked at each other. Emilio believed he could faintly hear Professor Granger's voice from the cell phone. A small smile tugged at Professor Malfoy's lips and Emilio saw how his professor's eyes softened. Looking away, a smile spread over Draco's lips.

"Very well. I am sorry to have kept you waiting and up late. I am looking forward to it. Good night, darling." He hung up, turning his full attention to Emilio. "You know a trustworthy and talented tattoo artist?"

"Yeah. Titus didn't go to art school or anything, but he's talented and self-taught. His shop is clean and he takes his time with each art piece." Emilio swallowed at being under the continued scrutiny of his professor. A small smile tugged at Malfoy's lips and he inclined his head.

"Thank you for the advice. Would you mind setting up an appointment with your friend?" Draco asked. Emilio nodded and gave a relieved breath.

"Sure. Though the first appointment is always a kind of orientation and information meeting for both sides."

"That is perfectly acceptable and prudent on your friend's part. I have a few ideas, but I would appreciate the opinion of a professional." Draco reassured. Emilio smiled. The acceptance his professor showed wasn't common. Most believed that walking into a tattoo parlour they pointed at something and the tattoo artist would then copy the design onto the body part the customer chose. Of course there were parlours like that, but almost all Emilio knew who'd gone to one like it, regretted it in the end. Either the design, the placement, the entire experience or, worst of all, the hygiene.

"Titus is a consummate professional when it comes to his art, trust me. I was thinking about a tattoo myself and he sat me down, talked me through it. All of it. In the end, I didn't get one." Emilio shrugged deprecatingly. "Getting a tattoo is a lifelong commitment and despite what some might say, it actually needs maintenance of a sort. Fades over time, body changes, etc. It's expensive and I didn't have the money to spare anyway."

Malfoy clapped Emilio's shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile.

"That was very mature of you and a good service your friend did. I will listen attentively to your friend. Please contact him and kindly advise me when he can fit me into his schedule. Additionally I would like to meet with you and your friend for further discussion of her problem. I've noticed that you have been distracted. I assume it has to do with her situation?" Draco asked the last in a lower register. He understood perfectly about keeping personal business private. Scratching his neck, Emilio sighed, nodded and moved a little closer.

"Yes, Professor. Sorry. She's been confiding in me. He's…he's pushing." Worry shone in Emilio's eyes and was reflected in Draco's.

"As troubling as those news are; patience. Not all is in place yet. Is she comfortable asking for help should it come to it?" Draco asked seriously. Emilio nodded.

"Yeah. She is proud, but she knows that in a contest, he would win. She won't risk it."

"Good." Draco nodded. "One less thing to worry about. Trust in your friend, keep an eye on her. If necessary, come up with a safe word or gesture. If you feel that danger to her person is imminent, come to **me**! Do **not** try to handle it yourself. If you were to get into a fight, there would be consequences that might even lead to you getting kicked off the team." He held Emilio's stare, to make sure the young man understood. At Emilio's serious nod, Draco breathed a little easier. Nodding to the young man, he turned to the common room.

"I bid you all a good night. Get some sleep. The next competition is only a week away." He gave them an encouraging smile. Their enthusiasm and good mood seemed unperturbed and he was happy that his students were for one, taking the attack in stride and for the other, had experienced no dip in confidence despite the stricter regime they had implemented.

 **AN:** Sorry for not posting in a while. Life is being crazy right now and I am still chasing my muse. I know where I want to go and the later chapters are already 'written' in my mind. Getting there in a way that fits with the rest and is logical is currently my problem. I could cheat and do a time jump, but naaah. That'd be too easy and I would be cheating you guys as well as myself.  
Sorry for the long time it's taking. Thank you for the reviews, as they encourage me to run faster and catch up to that flighty muse I am chasing. ;)  
Have a great one!


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Again the Dragon Quill pub was filled to the rafters. Possibly even more than before. The success of the home duelling team had led to a spike in interest. Add to that that is was a shiny, new thing and even those normally not interested in duelling or the circuit showed up to support their team and to have a good time. Business was brisk and the pub landlord had augmented his regular staff by hiring a few students as servers for the day. The Guard had prohibited the installation of speakers outside and had announced the day before, that the street in front of the pub had to remain clear for traffic. Not like last time. While some had grumbled, when the Guard spokesman had pointed out that the hospital at the end of the street would be cut off from this side of the district, the grumbles had died a quick death. Being the enterprising man he was, the pub landlord had invested in a few extension charms for his booths, meaning that more people fit into the pub without violating code.

As soon as the network logo popped up on the large screen at the end wall, conversations stalled or grew hushed, as everyone was eager for things to get going. The jingle for the sports show started and cheers were called throughout the pub, while servers rushed around, filling orders.

"Welcome friends of the sport! I am Benedict Smythe and with me is my colleague, Robert Whelan. We're here at the newly renovated New York Magic Games Stadium for the second contest in the university duelling circuit. Impressive show by Salem at the start of the season, but can they keep up? They had the element of surprise, but will they be able to sustain their momentum without it? Bob?" He turned to his co-host.

"We shall see, Ned. As you pointed out, they had the element of surprise. Now it is down to raw talent and training. The other teams had time to take Salem's measure and will have adjusted their training and preparation. Wins might be harder for them this time around. And I bet that Smith and Moralez are itching for a rematch." The pub erupted again in cheers and a few 'Hell yeah's were shouted in excitement. Ned chuckled.

"Maybe they should reconsider, if Professor Granger had any hand in their training." Next to Ned's head, a still showing an intimidating Hermione Granger with fire whips and all. It had become a popular image. For effect, he winked at the camera. Whoops and fist pumping greeted the image. A chorus of wolf whistles started at the tables occupied by the Guards-in-training and their elder colleagues. Some of the families threw them glances, but none tried to quiet them down.

"Quite a turn-around from you, Bob. I seem to remember you being wary of female duellists." Ned turned to his co-host as the still vanished. Bob smiled deprecatingly and shrugged.

"Consider me a convert. It might be the impetus needed to shake up the professional league and circuit. It has become somewhat stagnant and a lot of the support have quite the skills. I spoke with the Polanski team and they hinted that Geoffrey Polanski's daughter will start training in earnest for the circuit as of next month. She is already a regular training partner for her father, who is currently ranked among the top twenty duellists in the country. A good starting position. Let's see what she has to say." Both turned, as a part of the screen was taken up with a picture of a compact young woman. Her grey eyes looked slightly to the left to the person conducting the interview. She had shoulder length brown hair and was clothed in the Polanski team robes.

"My father and our team manager decided it was time to try something new. We had been playing with the idea for a while, but were uncertain about public reception and whether the Circuit would be receptive. Having a female training partner has become normal, but only in recent years have there been serious discussions about women joining the Circuit. At first as its own Circuit, but unlike in muggle sports, there is no physical disparity to take into account. Magical power isn't determined by gender, so a separate Circuit makes no sense.  
"Hermione Granger's performance was a wake-up call to the community and lent our arguments the weight it needed to get things moving." A smile tugged at her lips. The window with her image faded and both hosts smiled at the cameras.

"Exciting tidings indeed. The new Circuit season promises to be shaken up quite a bit. Ever since the Polanski team announcement, other teams have confirmed that they are intending to field a female duellist as well. No names are known yet, but Amy Lazore of the Akwesasne Nation is rumoured to also have entered training already. As the Akwesasne are registered with both the American as well as the Canadian Circuit, it will be interesting whether Ms Lazore will compete in the Canadian Circuit as well." Ned explained, smiling. Bob nodded next to him.

"It will be most interesting to watch and of course we will get you all the information as it is revealed. But let us get back to tonight's event!"

xXx

Once more the team stood in two rows behind their professors. Again all tried to stand a bit away from Jeremy, who again looked decidedly green around the gills.

"Breathe. Relax. Focus." Professor Malfoy told them in his calm voice, his face in the neutral mask they'd all assumed. As they were no longer ranked last, they wouldn't enter last as they had at the first competition. As a unit, they started walking, when the announcer called out for the Salem University duelling team. Swarthmore threw them dark glares, but they ignored those, keeping their eyes forward. The crowd inside the arena went wild at their entrance. The public loved them not only because they were the new kids on the block, but also because they were different from the other teams. While the other teams wore duelling robes, Salem wore the more traditional duelling vests. The sleek look and old world air had many intrigued.

A speech was given by the head judge when all the teams were arrayed and the competition officially declared as open by the mayor of wizarding New York. He also took the opportunity to point out that under his legislature, the Stadium had been renovated as a gift to the community. Most reporters present snorted at his pompous statement, but then, the man was known for never letting an opportunity pass him by for some publicity. The crowd politely applauded him, but were on the edges of their seats to see the competition started. The betting pools had received brisk business and bookies all across the country had crunched numbers the entire time between the first competition and this one to recalculate the odds. Especially as Salem turned out not to be as much of an underdog as everybody thought.

After the introduction and bows, each team split up into their traditional and freestyle sub-teams and headed to their side of the stadium. The freestyle competitors took off their cloaks or jackets, some jumping up and down or shaking out their arms in preparation for their bouts and to work off some excess energy. The ranks of spectators close to their arenas were waving flags, home-made signs and scarves with the different schools' logos on them. A good chunk of them were in Swarthmore colours, eager to see their champions vindicated. Separated by design by seating them on the other side of the stadium were the Salem supporters. The stadium management didn't want any fights to break out when emotions ran high. Some of the competitors who'd been on the teams for a few seasons shouted challenges and mock insults at each other. Some tried it with the Salem team as well. Especially those who'd lost to the women. They were ignored.

"Hey Hawk! Tell your Mom to clear her schedule tonight. I'm gonna be all over that sweet ass of hers!" Moralez shouted at the Salem team. James never truly fidgeted or moved unnecessarily, but all of his team mates knew that his current stillness wasn't natural. Emilio moved closer to his friend in concern. While none but the Southies knew that James' mother indeed sold herself, none shared that with anyone. Emilio assumed the jab was merely trash talk from Moralez, but James wouldn't care. No matter that his mother had straight up abandoned him at times, stolen from her son and attempted to make money off of him to feed her addictions, she was still his mother. Talking shit about her was a quick way to earn yourself a fist to the face. And James knew how to hit. And he made sure you stayed down. Before anything could happen though, Lorelei stepped up between James and Moralez.

"Really dude? That all you got? Come on, at least come up with some original trash talk." Sighing she shook her head, glancing at him and making sure to linger on his hips before saying: "Pathetic." with a disappointed sigh. Moralez' mouth worked hard, but his mind had blanked, while his team mates were laughing at him. Lorelei heard the cracking of knuckles behind her. Looking to her partner, she tensed. James' face was always closed down and hard to read, but she'd gotten better at it. The trick was to look at his eyes. And right now, they promised pain for Moralez. Sitting down next to James, she nibbled her lip, trying to figure out how to diffuse this situation.

"You know that he didn't mean it. It's just trash talk." She tried reason. Nodding, James nonetheless continued to follow Moralez with his eyes.

"I know." He rumbled.

"Good. Then you also know that if you leave me out there to dry, just to get a shot at the idiot, I'll kick your ass so hard when we get back. And I'll call your grandmother." She threatened. She'd never been subtle and James appreciated her no-nonsense attitude. Over the weeks she'd managed to get a bit closer to not only James, but the other Southies as well and it seemed that the only family and constant James had, was his grandmother, who seemed to be generally feared and adored by him and the other Southies. It made her curious and she absolutely wanted to meet the woman, but for the time being, Lorelei would use her as a deterrent or warning whenever necessary. And it was necessary right now. She had no doubt that Swarthmore would play their bouts in a way, so that Smith and Moralez were once more matched up against James and her. They had to recoup their reputation and title.

"I am sorry." James mumbled and when she turned to him, she saw him actually blush a little. Bumping her shoulder into his in a friendly manner, she smiled.

"It's fine. Just keep your head in the game. Who knows. Maybe the idiot is stupid enough to get close to you and Bam! If the opportunity presents itself and it won't ruin our match, go Neanderthal on his ass." She was heartened to see his minimalist smile and a little twinkle in his eye. Yeah, she didn't know what he'd been through to make him so quiet and reserved, but it couldn't have been good. Seemed as if he'd had to protect himself from a young age. Well, she could help out now. He was her friend. Sort of. Emilio caught her eye and nodded to her with a small smile. She nodded back, heartened that she'd had back-up without even knowing it. The camaraderie between the Southies was great and she enjoyed spending time with them. She felt that their lives at times were much more real when they shared than what most of her acquaintances had told her of theirs. There was struggle and hardship there, but also triumphs and joy. Achievements gained a new meaning and festivities were not simply for show, but actual celebrations of the person or persons in question. It was about them and not about how expensive the food or exclusive the venue was. She liked that authenticity, even if it had come at a price.

Francesca sitting down next to them jostled Lorelei from her thoughts. Seemed as if Emilio had called in reinforcements. Not that Lorelei minded. She could use the back-up if it came to it. While James had no problem fighting a woman in the arena or on the carpet, he was scrupulous in not hurting them outside. With both of them here, she had no doubt that they would be able to keep James from doing something stupid.

"Guess what? Seems as if the Peabody choir is here." Francesca said with a smile and pointed at a section close to them. Looking over, Lorelei indeed saw the members of the choir they'd met on their outing to the Peabody conservatory. That Russian guy winked at her again. Letting her breath out in an annoyed puff, she shook her head. She did notice though, that James sat a bit straighter. Puzzled she looked around, hoping that Moralez hadn't come too close, but James wasn't even looking towards the Swarthmore bench. No, he was looked towards the choir in the audience. And…was that an actual smile on his face?! Amazed she turned to Francesca, who seemed just as surprised. A girl Lorelei recognised as Sabrina's friend Eliana gave a small wave towards James, while blushing. He waved back, still smiling. With wide eyes, Francesca and Lorelei stared at each other. None of them even knew that those two knew each other better. Sabrina had never mentioned that her shy friend seemed to be dating James. That James hadn't said anything didn't surprise either woman. James was the definition of tight-lipped and private, hoarding his words. Before she could investigate this further, Lorelei was called up by Professor Zabini. Tapping James on the shoulder, both rose. They were up.

xXx

Hermione sat in the Salem section for dependants. It was pretty empty, as there was only her, Draco and Blaise. Other teams had more support personnel. Assistant coaches, medical support and some universities had even invested in tactical trainers. The spouses of those, sometimes even with their children, always had seats reserved for them. Hermione took up only one of the four seats set aside. There was always a seat reserved for the dean, but they mostly only showed for finals. Anything in the interim wasn't important enough and would put too much demand on their already cramped schedules. Dean McPherson had indicated that he would be more than happy to attend at a future date, but he was currently in the middle of getting some things settled and working the duellist team angle and program to not only the board of directors, but also the American ministry. He had high hopes for the program and what it could give the community in the future.

The other dependants gave her a wide berth for the most part. A few of them even gave her dark glares. Hermione didn't mind, as she **had** beaten on their husbands/boyfriends the last time they saw each other. Nonetheless she made it a point to be friendly to them all. You never knew and the wizarding world was, in essence, a village. Running into people again at a later date was almost a certainty. It was always better to leave a good impression and Hermione believed in being polite and nice as a general rule. From her vantage she had a good view again of both the carpets and the freestyle arena. While she herself liked freestyle more, as she believed it was closer to reality, she did appreciate the elegance of traditional duelling and ever since watching Draco train, she had another reason to appreciate it. The concentration on his face and his sure movements got to her every time. It showed a different side to him. When he stood tall in his duelling garb, he became a fighter. Something she never could have imagined him being, judging him only from their school days. Harry had also been surprised at Draco's prowess, even if Draco had lost their impromptu three-way duel.

"Excuse me?" The small voice next to her distracted Hermione from her thoughts on Draco. Looking over, she saw a young girl standing shyly to her left, fingering a pink notebook.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Hermione asked softly. She noticed an older woman behind the girl watching the exchange. Most likely the mother.

"I was wondering whether you would sign my scrap book?" The young girl asked, nibbling on her lower lip nervously. Smiling brightly, Hermione nodded.

"Of course. I would be delighted to. What is your name?"

"Cassandra Dornfeld." The girl replied with a bright smile, opening her scrap book to a marked page. On it was the still that haunted Hermione's steps ever since the Washington competition of her advancing with flaming whips. While she personally didn't like it, it seemed that the public seemed to love it. She didn't have the heart to tell this girl that she didn't want to sign her name to this, so she simply picked up her pen from her bag, signing her name under the still.

"There you go, Cassandra." Smiling, Hermione offered the book back. Grinning brightly, the girl took it, hugging it to her chest.

"Thank you so much, Ms Granger. My brother will never believe that I actually met you. He always told me that duelling wasn't something for girls. I always wanted to try and he made fun of me. Not anymore." She grinned even brighter and Hermione smiled, nodding to her.

"Good for you. Never let anyone tell you that something is out of your reach. With hard work and dedication, anything is possible." Taking a peek at the mother, Hermione was glad to see the wary look had fled. Instead the other woman nodded to her now, a small smile on her face. Nodding herself, Hermione turned her attention back towards her team. The first teams had ascended the platforms and she was a bit troubled to see that Jeremy seemed almost whiter than his duelling vest. She wondered what strategy their support was following. She could see Draco frowning from here. They may have to move Jeremy or have Blaise work with him on his confidence. If he couldn't get his nerves under control, he couldn't remain as first tier duellist. When there had been a few exchanges on the carpet, he would calm down and give a good match, but if he wanted to compete in the later bouts, he had to pick up his game.

In their last conference they had decided it would be good, if she could make some notes. She had a better vantage and had enough knowledge to judge the pros and cons of their students. It would help them to figure out what to work on in the future. Settling in with her moleskin notebook, she crossed her legs and leaned back. Before long however, she was again disturbed. This time by a grizzled man in a wrinkled coat. A tag stuck to the disreputable coat identified him as Carl Ipswich, journalist.

"Can I help you?" She asked in a reserved manner. Her experience with journalists had never been a good one. Right from her first contact with Rita Skeeter to those that had hounded her every step a few years back. Ipswich turned to her with a practiced smile.

"I wanted to know whether there is something to the rumours." He admitted. Frowning she turned to him further.

"Rumours? Mr Ipswich, isn't journalism about reporting facts?" She freely admitted her tone had gone decidedly bitchy. Smiling lopsidedly he shrugged.

"It should be. Problem is, rumours sell better. The juicier the better. I didn't make the world ma'am. Just trying to live in it." His tone was sardonic and somehow tired. She guessed that maybe he'd started out as a serious journalist, but the sad truth was that there simply weren't enough well-paying jobs. So instead, a lot of journalists had to suppress or abandon their ideals in order to follow their vocation.

"Excuse me being frank, but I do not intend to feed the rumour mill. Sorry, Mr Ipswich." Primly she sat up straighter, eyes forward and trying to ignore him. He chuckled next to her.

"Ms Granger, just being you is enough, trust me. You've roused public interest with your performance at the last competition. And the public is a hungry, curious beast. You are an unknown commodity. Your wish for privacy is understandable, but in the absence of fact, rumours have a tendency to spread. So what will it be? Fact or fiction?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sardonic tilt to his lips. Problem was, he was absolutely right. In the absence of facts, people liked to speculate. Patting themselves on the back when they believed that they had cleverly deduced something scandalous. She had an ace up her sleeve though.

"Neither, Mr Ipswich. I have had extensive experience with the press, trust me. For the moment I am a hot topic. That will change quickly though. Something else will catch the attention of the masses and I will be a footnote. An oddity people wonder about years later. Remember that lady with the two wands? I wonder whatever became of her? People will nod, wonder themselves and move on with their lives." Her hard eyes were now on Ipswich, who moved uncomfortably under her gaze. His informants had told him this Ms Granger had been a soldier in war. He'd taken in the knowledge, but hadn't truly realised what it meant. Now he did. This woman across from him, though much younger, seemed much older. And more dangerous. Sweating slightly, he tried to keep up the bored, nonchalant appearance.

"Maybe, maybe not. If you stay out of the lime light for long enough, true, the public will move on to newer, shinier things, but stay with Mr Malfoy, continue revolutionising magical living and that chance goes out the window. Let's face it, Ms Granger, you're too interesting for us leeches to leave you alone." He shrugged.

"How does my relationship with Mr Malfoy fit into this?" Hermione winced internally. She shouldn't engage, but he had poked her where it hurt.

"Seriously? Former enemies, now lovers. Great material right there. Not to mention the controversy. The old guard will for once agree with the young generation in being against it. Romantics will find it as proof that romance is not dead. Some might infer that you reformed him. That it only took a good woman's love to turn him around. Others might assume that he put you under a spell. Unlike most of my fellow journalists, I actually did the leg work and got into each of your backgrounds, Ms Granger. I know exactly how deep the divide between the two of you is. Currently I have a head start, but that won't be for long. While I have sold part of my soul in order to feed my family, I still attempt serious journalism from time to time. A premium has been offered by various papers for in-depth exposés on the two of you. The first to come with a good story will get the prize. Do you want that story to be true or a fabrication of guesses, rumours, innuendo and a sprinkle of facts?"

"And you would of course offer to write the true story." Hermione almost snarled. None of what he'd said was untrue. Draco was a very public figure in Salem, despite his private nature and him stepping down from his position as CEO of Malfoy Enterprises. Ipswich spread his hands a bit, leaning back.

"That's my offer, Ms Granger. I won't lie to you. I need the money this would get me. My daughter is in college and it isn't cheap. I have mortgages to pay. You've met me, know that I have done my research and I actually make an effort to talk to you before this goes further. I won't stop if you tell me you don't want to be interviewed. As I said, I need the money. I'll write the story with or without you." He held her gaze to make certain she understood that he meant every word. He was taking a gamble, but this was the only way he could do this and not feel like shit. Her nostrils flared and there was anger almost literally burning in her eyes.

"Thank you for your candour, Mr Ipswich. I assume you have a card?" She asked in a tight voice. Nodding, he produced one from his shirt pocket, offering it to her. She took it, reading it carefully.

"Can I assume then, that we have an agreement?" He asked. He felt bad about having to do this, but it was better him than one of the hacks he knew were out there and after the premium.

"As this does not only concern me, you cannot assume anything. Good day, Mr Ipswich." She turned away from him and he took it as the dismissal it was.

Breathing deep, Hermione tried to contain her rage. Getting up and pummelling Ipswich wouldn't solve anything. Bit by bit, the haze in her mind cleared and her normal, analytical mindset returned. All this seemed too convenient. Too sudden. Both she and Draco had successfully dodged the press for years. This in combination with the curiosities in her finances seemed engineered. Someone was trying to either distract or damage her. Or maybe Draco. Either was a bad idea. If it was only her, then she would deal with it quietly and without much fuss. But it seemed as if those behind this were also after Draco and that she wouldn't let slide. He'd worked hard at redeeming himself and she wouldn't let anyone pull him back down. Mr Ipswich would get his interview with her. But he would also have to answer some questions for her.

xXx

As predicted by Professor Zabini and their own expectations, Swarthmore fought their bouts so that they would match up against Lorelei and James again. Cracking his knuckles and neck, James couldn't wait. He knew that the others thought they'd made him forget about Moralez' comment. He hadn't. He never forgot when people insulted him or his family. His mother wasn't a good human being. He knew that. It didn't change the fact that she was his mother. He remembered how she had been, before. When she still cared and was sober. The small child he'd been still hoped that woman would one day miraculously come back and sing him to sleep again. The hardened semi-adult he'd become, knew that this woman was forever lost to him in the chemical haze of drugs and alcohol. She'd been in and out of rehab more times than he could count. Whenever she came back into his life, she was full of promises that this time it would be different. It never was. Something would trigger her and she'd be out on the street scoring again.

The only thing truly keeping him in check and preventing him from doing something monumentally stupid? Eliana. She'd smiled her shy smile and given him a wave, stars in her eyes. They regularly met in the library, making music. Ever since they'd run into each other after the first competition they'd kept on meeting there. At first it had been a bit awkward, as he generally didn't talk much and she was very shy. They still didn't talk much, but both were surprised to find that they didn't need to. She brought her violin, he sat at the piano and it was…peaceful. He'd told his grandmother about it, as she worried for him. He'd never had an easy time making friends. The other Southies were the only people he was closer to and if asked, he would only call Emilio and Francesca his friends. And now Eliana. With her though…she seemed to see something in him. Something he wasn't sure was there. But he wanted it to be there. She kept telling him how talented he was. Personally he thought she was the much better musician. If it kept her coming back though, he wouldn't complain. He was only grateful that his grandmother had taught him.

Lorelei stood and he followed. Some of the other teams snickered at him following her, but he was simply being polite. Who cared which one of them entered the arena first anyway? As soon as they were in the arena, they were equal partners. What he lacked in speed and agility, she made up for it. He on the other hand, had brute strength. And some of that strength was headed right for the smug smile on Moralez' face. A slight hush fell over the arena, as the audience was eagerly anticipating this rematch as well.

"Ready for this?" He asked Lorelei, keeping his eyes on their opposition. Jumping in place to loosen her muscles, Lorelei nodded.

"Sure thing. We took them down once. They are under pressure, we're not." She said in a calm voice. A smirk pulled at both their lips. Professor Zabini had pulled them aside before the competition and assured them that while another victory against the champions would be nice, he wasn't expecting them to win at all costs. They were currently in solid third place in the overall ranking in freestyle, which he was more than happy with.

"Have fun out there and if you see an opportunity, go for it. Do not overextend though. You have nothing to prove. You already did that brilliantly at the first competition." Professor Zabini had told them with a proud smile. It had calmed their nerves considerably, as almost anyone else who had talked to them, had expected them to be even more ambitious. And it had put the pressure on. Their professor's quiet confidence in them and assurances had calmed them down and given them confidence.

Stretching his arms and shoulders, James cracked his neck, taking in the slightly changed arena, looking for avenues of attack and retreat.

"Funnel them to the left and box them in at the ramp over there? We can put a trap or two down." He suggested in his low voice. Lorelei nodded.

"Good idea. I'll put a slip charm on the ramp to make sure they stay where we want them." She suggested. Nodding, James held out his hand and she clapped it with her own without looking. Both completely focused by now. It was game time.

 **AN:** I am getting back in the groove. :) Hope you continue to enjoy and have a great one!


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

A tense, hushed silence had descended on the Dargonquill Pub, as their local heroes once more were pitched against the national champions. Even the servers were staring at the screen, setting down drinks without looking, which at one table led to a small spill. The angry outburst of the victim of the spill was immediately shushed by everyone around them.

"Here we go, Ladies and Gentlemen. The rematch we've all been waiting for. Ned and I are joined now by Terence Williams, former freestyle duelling trainer of Rice University, Texas. Welcome Terence and thank you for lending us your expertise."

As the distinguished, black man sat down between the two hosts, the patrons of the pub oh'd and ah'd at his appearance. Many considered him to be the best trainer of freestyle in the country. His retirement announcement at the end of the last season had caught many by surprise. Seemed as if he was simply switching careers. From trainer to commentator.

"Thank you for having me. I am very happy to be here and to comment along with you on such a promising match." Terence gave both commentators and then the camera a smile. Bob nodded next to him.

"Indeed. Surprising all, Salem's mixed team of Lorelei Falidae and James Hawk took down the Swarthmore champions. It will be interesting to see what strategy Thomas Smith and Joaquin Moralez will be following today to recoup their title. Any thoughts, Terence?" Bob turned to their new co-commentator.

"Coach Eldersmith will no doubt have analysed the last match. Falidae and Hawk are a well-balanced team, but take her out and you cut down on their mobility. I would surmise that they will try to hem her in and not allow her to bring her speed out to play like last time. I also hope that Connor talked some sense into his duellists, as their performance at the last competition was showing an astonishing lack of focus. Moralez was not aware of his surroundings but entirely too focused on catching Falidae. I have to applaud Salem's coach there. She is an excellent duellist, showing a lot of talent and focus. She knew how to put the pressure on and goaded Moralez into being hasty, basically losing the bout for Swarthmore. It will be interesting to see, whether the boys have learned their lesson."

Ned and Bob listened attentively, nodding from time to time. The patrons' attention was also glued to Terence's lips. His expert opinion carried a lot of weight.

"And what about James Hawk, Terence? Any thoughts on the new heart-throb of the college circuit?" Ned asked with a wink at the camera, as a still of James in concentrated fighting pose appeared, overlaying the arena feed, which had been next to them. Many girls and women in the pub wolf whistled and cheered. It seemed as if James' dark, silent intensity was becoming a fan favourite.

"A very talented young man. Hard to read, which is good for him. He has good mobility and is faster than his build would suggest. I detected a bit of tunnel vision from him in his last bout, which could be their downfall, if Falidae gets taken out early. She keeps him on track, while he shields her when necessary. His tactics are a bit more conservative, as he seems more of a protector than an aggressor. It works well for them, as Falidae knows how to pull the opposition. If Smith and Moralez let him fortify a position of retreat, we'll have another ten round bout ahead of us. Let that young man have enough time and he'll build you a portable fortress. Standing behind Hawk, you're as safe as you can possibly get in a duelling arena. A defender diamond in the rough right there."

Wild cheering went through the Dragonquill Pub at this high praise from the nation's best freestyle trainer. It had been entirely too long in their opinion since Salem had received any praise for their duelling team. The last few years had only been slights and veiled insults.

The still of James was once more replaced by the arena live feed and people settled down in anticipation for the match to start. Both teams had stepped up to their side of the arena, taking it in, shaking their limbs to loosen their muscles and settle their nerves. The window with the commentators shrank to a corner, while the arena feed was enlarged for better viewing.

"High praise, Terence. Let's see if Salem can live up to expectations. Will they crack under the pressure? Julia Rellis had an opportunity to speak with Salem's freestyle coach, Blaise Zabini, and according to her, the team is happy with their current ranking and he doesn't expect a win, though he wouldn't be unhappy about one. Will that take the heat off, Terence?"

"Possibly, Ned. Youth is ambitious though. It will come down to their discipline and whether they will be able to reign themselves in and not fall for traps laid by Swarthmore." Silence descended, as the teams both took the last steps into the arena perimeter and assumed battle stances, waiting for the judge to start the bout.

"See the difference in stances right at the start." Terence continued commentating. "Swarthmore has chosen aggression right from the start, possibly hoping for a quick confrontation, while Salem has Falidae in hunter pose and Hawk in wall stance. Moralez and Smith will have to be quick, or Hawk will have fortified a position in the first few minutes of the bout."

"Judging from Eldersmith's gaze and the focus in Smith's face Swarthmore realises this as well. Besides, Smith possibly still has a bone to pick with Hawk after being chased by the other at the end of their last bout." Bob pointed out.

"There goes the whistle and they are of! But what is this?! Falidae is **not** gunning for the other team! Oh, clever ruse there. Now inside the arena hides and ramps, Smith and Moralez can no longer see that the two have switched roles. Won't that be a surprise? Hawk running along the perimeter, setting down a sticking charm at the most likely approach, sliding into the cover. How does Moralez not hear him? He ran right by Hawk. Hawk does not engage though." Ned turned to Terence.

"Good strategy. It gives Salem opportunity to infiltrate Swarthmore's back field to lay traps and scout, possibly even defuse some of their traps." He nodded in approval and just like he said, Hawk only ran through the Swarthmore half, studying the placement of ramps and hides, while waving his wand now and again. Chuckling Ned shook his head.

"Won't that be a surprise when Swarthmore has to retreat. But now Falidae is on her own. Smith and Moralez are moving in a pincer movement to catch her between them. Hopefully they learned their lesson from last time about their line of fire." All three men chuckled. Dodging the first spells shot in her direction, Falidae moved back and left towards the Salem side.

"Hawk better catch up to his partner, or he will soon be outnumbered." Bob warned, a concentrated frown on his face. Ned and Terence nodded.

"Falidae still on the retreat, blocking and dodging beautifully, but this will not get them off her tail. She needs to find a place to make her stand and for her partner to catch up. Moralez now breaking off to the left, possibly to cut her off. Smith closing in on her position. Seems he wants to go for a slide-and -stun." Just as Ned finished, Smith fell to his knees, skidding around the corner, behind which he assumed to find Falidae, shooting the stunner without checking.

"Oh! Close one. Again Swarthmore almost taken out by friendly fire in their eagerness to win this. Both Smith and Moralez so sure that Falidae would be here. That girl has nerves of steel, waiting just long enough for both of them to be in the tunnel, before climbing the ramp. She is now joined by Hawk, who has been busy, it seems. It is hard to see on camera, ladies and gentlemen, but all approaches from the Swarthmore side to this section of the arena have now been booby trapped by Salem. The Swarthmore team has to up their game and play much more strategically, or they will go home with another loss under their belt." Ned shook his head, almost disappointed at Swarthmore's performance. Terence frowned a bit and leaned forward.

"Not so fast, Ned. I believe you shouldn't count them out yet. While Swarthmore plays much more aggressive than usual, they do seem to have a plan. Just as Hawk has trapped their side, they are now trapping the Salem side. Getting back to safety and to get a breather will be hard for both teams. Neither side has a choice now. Swarthmore is forcing a head-on confrontation. Hawk and Falidae were using their environment to their advantage and to balance out any possible short-comings in their training. Swarthmore has taken that away now. It will be interesting to see, how good duellists they truly are. For both teams the only way out is through the others." As Terence ended, a great cheer went through the pub at this. All had been hoping for such a confrontation.

"Seems as if Falidae and Hawk have realised this as well now, Terence." Bob pointed down, as they were in a reporter's booth, overlooking the arena. "And they do not seem surprised, gents." He grinned at the camera.

xXx

Breathing deep to catch her breath, Lorelei checked her surroundings. Not much cover for her to work with, but it would do. Within the last few weeks, Professor Zabini had them training head-on duels in preparation for situations as these. When it came down to one-on-one's in freestyle, it often ended with a direct duel in a more or less open area. Gunter and their support team had speculated that it might come to this and it had influenced their opening gambit. As predicted, Moralez and Smith had started to hunt for her the moment the whistle blew, ignoring to secure their retreat area. An opportunity James had exploited, while it had been up to her to secure their area. Her spells were not as strong as his, but she could accomplish it, while also luring their adversaries. Her speed their ace in the hole.

A soft step next to her, had her look up, wand at the ready. James only nodded to her. It surprised her how quiet he could be.

"Any trouble?" She asked in a whisper. Shaking his head, he kept an eye on their surroundings. If she hadn't heard him move, she doubted the lunkheads had. Breathing deep, she nodded to him, motioning with her hand that she would strafe to the right. Nodding, he passed her. He would attack from the middle, catching their attention. Lorelei would flank them, hopefully catching them unawares. Sneaking along, she waited for the first flash of James engaging Smith and Moralez. There it was. The deflected spell impacted a hide close to her. Ignoring the shouts and taunts from the Swarthmore boys, she snuck on, counting down in her head. James was working overtime, switching position again and again to make it seem as if they were both at his position. Peeking from her current hidey-hole, she caught sight of Smith close to her. Allowing for a small smile, she twirled her wand. As she took another step, a loud screech sounded next to her. Dammit! Smith turned with a smirk. Lorelei didn't stop to berate herself for her inattention, but moved. Shooting a spell at Moralez, she ducked and turned to avoid Smith's spell. Her flank hadn't worked and now it was down to a two-on-two duel. Spells were flying left, right and centre while they moved among them. Hissing, Lorelei ducked behind a ramp, rubbing her leg. It had only been a strafe, but the sting hex still had her calf muscles cramping. Pushing through the pain, she re-joined the melee. James was holding his own, throwing her a glance and raising an eyebrow at her limp. Shaking her head, she indicated for him not to worry. She'd had cramps before and it was already getting better. Tracking Moralez, she shot a bombarda his way, flinging him back and preventing him from circling behind James. Suddenly Smith was there, shoving her back. Using the moves Professor Zabini had taught her, she freed herself from his grip and followed it up with an open hand slap right to his ear. As expected, Smith stumbled back, holding his ear with a wince. Done right, the compressed air would hit the ear drum and disorient the opponent. Her triumph at having executed the manoeuvre correctly was short-lived though. As Smith retreated, he shot another spell at her, pushing her off balance. And then Moralez barrelled into her. Seemed as if they sought the physical confrontation with her now, hoping to overwhelm her. She would have snorted, but then the momentum of Moralez' push had her collide with the ramp next to her. She could hear the crack of breaking bone more than actually feeling it.

James scrambled after Moralez when he figured out what his intention was. He was a tad too late though. Lorelei's scream of pain was accompanied by a lot of booing from the crowds. The judge immediately called for a time out. James reigned himself in. If he simply continued forward, he'd ram right into Moralez, but the whistle had been blown. Gnashing his teeth, he ignored the jeering Moralez and turned instead to Lorelei, who was sitting on the floor, cradling her left arm and her face as white as a sheet. Kneeling by her, he took in her arm. Seemed as if one of the bones of her forearm was broken, judging by the unnatural bulge in her skin. Her eyes were glassy with pain and her breathing ragged.

"I'm picking you up. It might hurt." He warned, cradling her carefully to his chest, her damaged arm away from him. Passing by Smith, James threw him a dark look. The other guy looked gobsmacked by what happened. If Moralez had planned this, he'd apparently not shared the plan with his partner. He raised his arm and opened his mouth as if to say something, but James turned away and toward the Salem bench. The moment they left the arena boundary, they were swarmed by their team. To James' surprise, even the other teams were throwing dark glances at Swarthmore and especially Moralez, who was playing to the crowd. Setting his eyes on the idiot, James no longer cared if they lost. Moralez would go down. Hard.

xXx

"Nasty move by Moralez there." Ned pointed out to the hearty agreement of the Dragonquill Pub patrons. While the bout was paused, the window with the commentators was enlarged a bit. Bob, Ned and Terence all wore serious expressions. Terence even shook his head.

"A cheap shot if I ever saw one." He commented. "If you have to get physical, it should be a clean knock-out." He shook his head, his face a mask of disdain. Bob and Ned nodded along. Physical attacks were nothing new in freestyle duelling. If bouts went on for a long time, the contestants often switched to seeking direct, physical confrontations. The concentration and focus necessary to execute precision spells sapped endurance, focus and strength faster than physical altercations.

"Judging from Coach Eldersmith's expression, this was not part of the overall plan." Bob pointed out, motioning to the screen close to them.

"It seems so. Whether it be that he finds the technique itself sloppy, or that it tarnishes the clear win they wanted, I do not want to be in Moralez' shoes, when the bout is over." Ned pulled a grimace. Terence huffed.

"I hope that he gives that young man a piece of his mind. If he doesn't, I will. Such tactics are not acceptable at the level at which the contestants are duelling." His voice was filled with scorn. The patrons were shaking their fists, nodding their heads. All of them were angry about what had happened to the rising star of their duelling team. They wanted retribution of some sort.

"Moralez might regret his actions soon. I doubt that Hawk will let this go. It will be interesting to see, who Salem will field as back-up. The team has no set seconds, but instead they can now pick and choose, giving them flexibility and the possibility to adapt." Bob explained to the audience, as the camera zoomed in on the Salem bench. The team had closed ranks around their injured team mate. Terence tilted his hand side to side.

"Possibly, Bob. It remains to be seen, whether the teams are that adaptable. Will the other duellists know how Hawk ticks? Falidae and Hawk could communicate by simple hand signals or a look. That takes time and familiarity. It will be interesting to see."

xXx

Lorelei kept her eyes closed and her teeth gritted, concentrating only on her breathing. Pain wracked her, shivering down her entire body and radiating brutally from her arm. James was doing his best not to jostle her too much, but every step he took seemed to vibrate in her arm.

"Try to breathe through the pain." James' deep, calm voice advised her. Nodding weakly, she tried to do just that. As he set her down, the pain bloomed and a whimper made it past her lips. James' face seemed to darken even more. She tried to smile. She knew that he would go right for Moralez and beat that idiot to a pulp.

"Think I'll get the next few training sessions off?" She pressed out between her teeth. With relief she noted that his eyes softened. A small smile tilted his lips.

"I wouldn't count on it." He rumbled and winked. Within moments they were surrounded by their team mates. Francesca took Lorelei's hand, squeezing it in support. Kelley Rodgers, one of the support team members gingerly touched Lorelei's other arm. Her face didn't betray anything and she moved her wand in slow, cadenced circles, mumbling under her breath. Lorelei sighed in relief, as the pain receded.

"Hold her steady. I can't mend it, but I'll have to set it. It's going to hurt." Kelley warned. Lorelei breathed deep, steeling herself. Francesca squeezed her hand again.

"Do it." Lorelei said. Kelley worked fast, but it still hurt like a bitch. Groaning, she slumped in her chair. Shivers ran up and down her body, the sounds oddly muted and bile rose into her mouth. Swallowing and gasping, Lorelei tried to stay conscious.

"Fuck!" She hissed, leaning her head back. Kelley waved her wand again and her arm went numb.

"Breathe deep. Just concentrate on breathing, Lorelei." Francesca whispered, squeezing Lorelei's hand and rubbing her back. Nodding, Lorelei leaned her head back, breathing in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth. Bit by bit, sounds turned crisp again and not as if her ears were stuffed with cotton. Opening her eyes, she looked to Kelley and nodded in thanks. Kelley smiled and softly clapped Lorelei on her leg. She turned her gaze to James, who was still squatting in front of her. For a moment they only looked at each other.

"Kick his ass." She whispered. Seriously he nodded and rose. The other duellists and support stepped up to him. Looking around, he took them in. Francesca was out, as she had apparently decided to stay with Lorelei. Emilio would be the natural choice, as they understood each other without talking, but he remembered the warnings Professor Zabini had given them, when he'd explained why they'd been split up as a team. And James had to agree. They could get tunnel vision and act rashly. Gunter was a good second, but they were both the same type of duellist. Both he and Gunter were more defensive in their approach and from their movement patterns the same. He wanted more versatility, so Gunter was out too. Around him all of them were discussing plays, strategies and who would step in for Lorelei. James huffed.

"Keisha." He said. Around him, the others stopped talking. Walking up to him with a swagger in her step, Keisha bumped fists with him. Again the team huddled up, to talk strategy. This time specifically with Keisha as his partner in mind.

xXx

A hush fell over the stadium when the time-out was called to an end. Everyone wanted to see how this would play out.

"Interesting choice by Salem to field Keisha Andrews as a substitute. Will such a mixed team prove superior?" Ned asked and shrugged, looking to Terence and Bob. Bob shrugged as well, while Terence seemed thoughtful.

"We shall see, Ned." Bob commented. "The bout is about to continue. The only thing that's sure is that Moralez better watch his back. I doubt Salem and especially Hawk will let that attack slide." At this all three nodded, leaning forward to better see the stadium below them. Moralez was still waiving at the crowd, lapping up the attention. Smith jumped in place, his face concentrated, but also resigned. As if he knew whatever was going to happen next would not be fun. Keisha and James were perfectly still. Their faces dark and determined.

"Commence bout!" The judge called out and both teams were off again. It seemed an unspoken agreement had been made to meet head-on in the middle, where a rather large area opened up among the ramps and hides. While Keisha and James had no trouble reaching the area and putting down traps, Moralez and Smith had to traverse the minefield James had left behind for them. And it slowed them down, costing them precious seconds. At one point, Moralez had to pull Smith out of a small sinkhole. In the process, Smith lost one of his shoes and had now to go barefoot or limp on with only one shoe, throwing off his coordination. Out of breath they stormed into the open space, wands at the ready. Keisha and James were waiting for them.

"Let's see if you can protect that one better than the other one!" Moralez jeered. Smith threw him an incredulous look. Keisha smirked, while James cracked his neck. Taking a step forward, James knelt on one leg, while Keisha stepped back. Smith and Moralez started peppering James with spells, moving towards their biggest threat, James.

xXx

"Seems as if Smith and Moralez are intent on taking Hawk out of the game. It would reduce the Salem team's defensive potential as Andrews is a more offensive fighter. She is at the back preparing I believe."

The crowd at the Dragonquill Pub was glued to the screen and everyone was only having hushed conversations so as to not miss the ongoing commentary.

"Seems like it, Bob. It seems odd for her to let Hawk take the entire brunt of the attack without helping." Ned commented and frowning. The commentators box was miniaturised in the lower left corner of the screen. Sudden movement from below had them lean forward and squint a bit.

"Here comes Andrews!" Ned exclaimed with a smile as Keisha took a running start, stepped on James' shoulder. He rose in the right moment, giving her a massive boost for her jump and momentum, completely catching the Swarthmore team by surprise, as Keisha was now behind them. Without any magical effort on her part, she had overcome all their traps and deterrents. And they were now in between them, having to defend to two sides.

"Surprise, bitches!" Keisha cheered with a grin and spun into her attack. She'd aimed for Moralez in the hopes of pulling him into a duel. She knew James well and she knew that he wouldn't let Moralez off easy. Possibly going over the top. Everyone in their neighbourhood knew that if there was one thing **never** to do in James' presence, then it was violence against women. Smith slid in front of Moralez, deflecting her spell. Grumbling Keisha spun, dodging his spell, falling into a crouch, sliding on her shin. Using her momentum, she executed a twist worthy of any breakdancer. The unconventional movement threw Smith off, sending his follow-up spell wide. Flipping around, she shot spells at Smith from different angles. It was down to one-on-one duels now. And Smith had made sure by his interference that Moralez would get the worst beating of his life.

James moved towards Moralez, who was wildly shooting spells at him. His acquaintances back home didn't call him the tank for nothing. What he couldn't block, he dodged with minimal movements. Sometimes even letting stinging hexes hit him so as to preserve strength. He knew Keisha would keep Smith occupied, which meant that he could enter the tunnel and concentrate completely on Moralez and finish him. And it seemed as if Moralez realised that there was no way out now, judging by the hasty looks he was throwing to his occupied team mate and his surroundings.

"No clever quips?" James grumbled. He looked directly into Moralez' eyes. Not only did it unnerve most people if you kept direct eye contact for an extended period, but most people were also betrayed by their eyes. The minute tightening of muscles or their movement. As a result, James was able to predict each of Moralez' movements.

"Stop it!" Moralez yelled, frustrated.

"Yield and I will." James answered, continuing his advance.

"Thomas!" Moralez called out. It didn't help. By now Smith was in an all-out wrestling match with Keisha. Looking back to James, he squared his shoulders. He was a national champion, damn it! And he wouldn't be beaten again by a team of newbies. Especially one with a woman! Breathing deep, he shot off more spells, closing the distance himself now. "Bring it!" He snarled. A small twitch at Hawk's left corner of the mouth was the only reaction.

A sharp jab to the gut was Smith's reward for looking up at his team mate's call for help. Wrestling was trained regularly, as part of their normal regimen, but he'd never had to deal with the improvised moves Andrews pulled out. He was also always having to readjust his grip. His mother would never forgive him if he was seen pawing a woman on national television. It was bloody awkward. And she took advantage, preventing him from getting a solid hold. Rolling them, he managed to catch a glimpse of Hawk closing in on Joaquin like the tide; slow, steady and inevitable. While he still somehow wanted to win this fight, he believed that the beating coming Joaquin's way was overdue.

James was in range now and a deep calm settled over him. Moralez was still trying magic, but the distance between them was not enough. Blocking a spell now, would put the other guy out of the game. James didn't want that, so he dodged and stowed his own wand. Coming up from his dodge, his shoulder was met by Moralez' punch. It smarted, but nothing major. With a wince, Moralez pulled back. He must've been aiming for James' side. Hitting the shoulder, where there were a lot of muscles and bone could not have been his intention. As a result, he'd now hurt his hand. All the better. Grunting, James threw a punch of his own. Unlike Moralez, he didn't overcommit and was able to adjust his angle, as his opponent moved. As calculated, James' fist made solid contact with Moralez' side, just grazing the lower rib. It wouldn't break, but it sure as hell hurt like a bitch. As evidenced by Moralez going bug-eyed and wheezing, quickly scrambling back and holding his side. James followed. Rushing him, Moralez hugged him, trying a wrestle take-down. His grip was too high, not being able to shift James' centre of gravity. He paid for his error by James bringing down his linked hands solidly on his back. With a whoosh all air left Moralez as he crashed to the ground. He didn't even have enough air to cry out. Grasping at James' left foot, he tried to pull his opponent down, but James was too well balanced in his stance. Using his momentum in kneeling down, James brought his fist straight at Moralez' face. He knew how to hit bone and not break his own hand. It hurt, but pain was nothing new to James. Grasping Moralez' shirt at the shoulders, James pulled the dazed boy to his feet.

"Get up. I'm not done." He rumbled and for the first time in his life, Joaquin knew what terror felt like. Hawk's voice wasn't angry or loaded with menace. It was calm and neutral. As if he was performing a mundane task and not delivering a beating. Twisting, he tried to get free, but Hawk's grip was rock solid. Looking up, he saw Hawk's head-butt coming, but it was too late to evade. Stars obscured his vision and he would have fallen, if something at his back hadn't caught him. Scrambling with his hands, he recognized the shape and texture as one of the ramps. His slow, beaten brain needed a minute to make the connection. Hawk had made sure that he would have something to fall against and not land on the floor, signalling that he was out. Wide-eyed he stared at the Southie, fully realising what was coming. Hawk nodded at him and then it began.

xXx

Slowly silence had descended on the Dragonquill Pub as the audience watched the brutal beat down Moralez was receiving. At first, all had been eager for this. The cheap shot Moralez had delivered to Falidae firing them up for revenge. Passionate revenge, but not this. This was cold, calculated and brutal. And none was against the rules. The stadium itself had gradually quieted down as well, the commentators were staring. Swarthmore's coach was screaming at the judges to stop the match. The furious wrestling match between Andrews and Smith was still ongoing. Clearing his throat, Ned licked his lips.

"Ah…Smith will have to win that wrestling match he's in. Whenever Hawk finishes with Moralez, he'll be outnumbered." He croaked, trying to get the commentating back on track. Bob shook himself, clearing his own throat and nodded.

"Yeah. It wouldn't be an advantageous position and I surely wouldn't want to go one-on-one with Hawk." He attempted a chuckle. Weak smiles were his only reward. The judges seemed to finally have mercy on Moralez, as they sounded the gong for the end of the round.

"Dear God!" Terence whispered, paling. All knew what he was referring to. The moment the gong sounded, Hawk stopped mid-swing, turned and helped Andrews to her feet. Not looking back, he moved to his bench. Moralez remained slumped against the ramp he'd been almost pummelled into. Smith leaned down to his team mate. The Swarthmore support team rushed the arena.

"Seems as if Swarthmore will have to go to a stand-in as well." Ned pointed out, though it was obvious to all when one of the cameras managed to get a close-up of Moralez' face. Both eyes were almost swollen shut already, a split lip and a broken nose greeted the viewer.

"Oooh! That looks painful." Bob winced in sympathy. Terence and Ned nodded.

"Getting caught by Hawk in a physical confrontation is **not** a good idea unless you're professionally trained in hand-to-hand." Terence pointed out. "I already know that Swarthmore will push for Hawk to be pulled from the competition, but none of what he did was against the rules. Him pulling out at the end of the round shows great control and focus. Most would have lost themselves in the fight, but he didn't. With a bit more training Hawk could enter the professional circuit without problem. I'd be surprised if the teams aren't already making plans about approaching him and recruiting him for their teams. His control and focus are exemplary and what most new entrants into the Circuit lack."

Bob and Ned nodded along to Terence's commentary, feeling more comfortable now that Terence had brought the show back on track.

"A rosy future then for Hawk. I would think that the established teams should show interest in Andrews as well. Thomas Smith is a proven wrestler, who has even competed successfully in the sport. And yet, Andrews was able to hold her own and not succumb. Definitely a good sign." Bob smiled at the camera. Some clapped in agreement, but most were still stunned by Hawk's display of ferocious, concentrated violence.

 **AN:** Sorry it's taking so long. Work, family, etc. You know the drill. :P Hope you enjoy and I hope to post more regularly soon.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

As expected by all, Swarthmore pushed for James to be suspended from the competition. The judges shot it down though, as James had never crossed the line. At no time had Moralez indicated that he yielded and James had stopped at the gong.

Lorelei looked over to James, who sat on the bench next to her. He'd come straight to her, asking her how she was doing. His hands still bloody. On one level it scared her, but on another it reassured her as well.

"Did he yield?" She asked in a whisper. Looking at his hands, James shrugged.

"I'm not sure. He might have tried. Hard to understand a man when he's lisping and not breathing properly." He rumbled. Lorelei's chills were back.

"You should have let him surrender, James." She rebuked quietly. He turned to her, his eyes hard.

"He hurt you on purpose." He growled. She nodded.

"Yeah, he did. But we were duelling and it was his job to take me out. It was a dick move, but nothing he would have tried outside the arena. I will get hurt again, James. It's part of the duelling thing. You can't pummel every duellist who does to mush afterwards. That wouldn't be fair. I knew the risks going in. Okay?" Softly she touched his forearm, since he'd turned away from her. Tension radiated through him. Slowly it left and he breathed deep.

"Okay. But if someone hurts you outside the arena, I'll give them a piece of my mind." He replied, even giving her a small smile. Smiling herself, she clapped his arm.

"That's fine. If there's anything left after I'm done with them, you can have the rest." At the surprised look he gave her, she gave him a wink. Both chuckled. With a bit of concern James turned to the stands and Eliana. She'd never seen him violent and he feared what his display would do to their budding friendship. Eliana was still smiling and even gave him another wave. Breathing deeper in relief, he waved back. Their eye contact was broken by Professor Zabini stepping into his line of vision. Looking up, James saw no disapproval in his professor's face.

"Nod a few times, James. Almost everyone wants a bit of reproach for the beating you just gave. Personally, I have no problem with it. I just have one question. Were you aware of anything happening around you but Moralez?" Professor Zabini crossed his arms, his face dark and raising one eyebrow in question. Rubbing his hands, James looked at his feet.

"Look at me, James. Were you aware of anything else happening around you?" Professor Zabini pushed. Looking back up, James shook his head.

"No, sir." He replied. Zabini nodded.

"I thought as much. You're a force to be reckoned with, but if Smith had taken out Keisha and come up behind you, all of your defensive knowledge or toughness wouldn't have meant anything. **Always** keep an eye on your surroundings." Professor Zabini held James' gaze for a moment, both men nodded and their professor moved away. With a tired smile, Lorelei shook her head. Silent man gazes, oh boy.

xXx

The bout ended with Swarthmore taking home a hard-earned win. It was by no means the clear victory they had been hoping for and one of their top duellists had been soundly beaten and would possibly need time off the circuit to recuperate. The crowd loved it nonetheless as it shook up the status-quo. Add to that, that the female traditional duellists were delivering solid performances as well, Salem was quickly becoming a darling of the masses.

After the competition, the team once more returned to a hotel for the night. Thought they hadn't been as successful as the last time, Hermione, Draco and Blaise still organised a little party for their students. As a little surprise, they were joined by the members of the Peabody choir and none other than Theo Nott himself. Within minutes the two different groups intermingled, having a good time. Jeremy was back to being his usual verbose self, having left his jitters behind in the arena. His grandiose telling of his duel had Francesca and some of the other girls listening in snickering, since all knew that Jeremy's story was overexaggerated. Sabrina introduced Eliana to the rest of the team and as Francesca had noted James' clear interest, she made a point of staying close and getting to know the shy girl that seemed to have caught her friend's eye. She seemed genuine enough. Soft spoken, clinging a bit to the bottle of beer in her hand and giving small smiles when others might laugh out loud. So far, Francesca liked what she saw. And it seemed James did too. He was always close to Eliana whenever Sabrina stepped away. At the moment though, it was just the girls, as James was in a deep discussion with Gunter and some others. From time to time, Francesca would hit the small dance floor, simply enjoying herself, or rescuing Lorelei from the attentions of a very determined Russian guy from the Peabody choir. Lorelei's arm was now in a cast and since she'd had a dose of Skele-Gro, she couldn't drink. The hotel provided non-alcoholic cocktails though, so she didn't feel too left out.

Returning from such a trip, she was surprised to find Eliana chugging back her beer. It seemed that the quiet types were the wildest. Concerned Francesca stepped over to her.

"You alright?" She asked the previously timid girl, who was now swaying to the music with glassy eyes. Nodding, Eliana stumbled a bit and caught herself on the column next to her.

"Sure! Absolutely. Totally fine." A big grin followed the enthusiastic reply. Frowning Francesca looked around. How had James, or Sabrina for that matter, let this happen? The girl was completely smashed and Francesca doubted that Mr Nott would be very understanding of a hang-over. Settling her eyes back on Eliana, she noticed that she was now nibbling her lip nervously and staring at James.

"You can do this. Confident. Just be confident." Eliana muttered. Sighing Francesca shook her head. So that's what this was. Liquid courage. Not the ideal way with James, who abhorred excess. Not too surprising considering his mother. Reaching out, she wanted to suggest to Eliana to maybe sit down and drink a bit of water or coffee, but her hand only met air. Eliana was making her way with long strides through the room, a determined look on her face. Sighing Francesca followed, trying to catch her in time. Waving at Lorelei and Sabrina on the dance floor, she tried to get reinforcements closer to her quarry. The other girls took one look at Eliana and realised what was happening. Some commotion ensued as all three tried to converge on Eliana, who was oblivious to their attempt and completely focused on her goal, James. He saw her coming, turning away from his discussion with a small frown as he saw her determined expression. He wasn't prepared for her to grab his shirt by the collar, pull him down to her level and kiss him. Wide-eyed he simply stood there. Around them the others stopped their conversation and some chuckled at seeing James' completely gobsmacked expression. With big eyes, Eliana took a step back, staring at James. Both seemed a little shocked at what had just happened.

"Oh my god!" Eliana whispered, turned around and ran. Chuckling broke out and someone clapped James on the shoulder. Francesca, Lorelei and Sabrina adjusted their course and followed Eliana outside. They didn't need to see her to know where she was going. At open venues like this, the nearest place of privacy was the women's restroom. Entering they found Eliana stalking back and forth in front of the mirrors, her hands buried in her hair.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She kept whispering. Sabrina bit her lip to keep from laughing, while Lorelei and Francesca barely managed to keep their chuckles inside. Turning around, Eliana saw them.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed loudly. "Why did I do that?! In front of everyone. He's going to hate me now." In record time her face turned white, her cheeks bulging. Running, she made it just in time. Francesca winced and turned away, as well as Sabrina. Lorelei shook her head at them being so squeamish and followed Eliana into the stall, brushing her hair back and rubbing her back as she heaved. Tears rolled down Eliana's face, not only because she was sick. She'd ruined it all. He'd never talk to her again. Why would she do this?! He was quiet and private. Like her.

"He won't hate you." Lorelei soothed and looked to the two others to back her up. Francesca nodded, still with a smile on her face. Sabrina waved Eliana's worries away.

"Don't worry about it, Eli. He was just surprised. Everything will be fine."

Eliana looked up at her oldest friend with wide, glassy eyes, hope shimmering there.

"You really think so? I wanted to tell him I liked him and that we could maybe have lunch sometime." A dreamy expression claimed Eliana's face. "He's so handsome and kind and funny."

The other girls threw each other glances with raised eyebrows. James? Funny and kind? True, he was polite, but no one would claim that he was the life of the party. He'd tell a sly joke in his minimalistic way once in a blue moon, but that was it.

"Thank you." James' voice had all four girls twitch and turn. In his usual fashion, he'd come up on them without making a sound. Eliana stared at him wide-eyed and tongue-tied, before turning back to the toilet for another round of heaving. James crossed the room and knelt next to her, holding her hair back.

"You should rest." He told her softly, gently rubbing her back. Attempting to breathe deeply, she leaned into him.

"Would you like to come visit me at the conservatory sometime?" Her cheeks blushed bright red. Made even brighter by her waxen complexion. Smiling he tucked a curl or hair behind her ear.

"You should get some rest. We'll talk about visiting later, okay?"

Huffing, she nodded, her body slumping against his. All of a sudden she felt bone tired. Closing his eyes, he held her closer.

"Come on." Gently he helped her to her feet.

xXx

Hermione was having a great time talking to Theo. Apart from the time they'd spent at his club, they'd kept in touch by phone mainly. Both their lives busy and their schedules not aligning, but she wanted not to let this opportunity slide to get to know him better. Not only was he an accomplished musician, but also an art historian. It made sense, as his father had dealt in artifacts, so it was only natural for Theo to have picked it up in his youth and to then have to study it later to take over the business, as was usual in the older families.

Blaise was in the middle of the dance floor, partying with his students. Of the three of them teaching, he was the one most felt the most comfortable with. The girls tended towards her, as she gave them an indication of what they could become in the future. And there were certain things that only women could talk about.  
Draco was never far from her. Ever since they'd decided to date openly, he'd started to stay closer to her in public. It was her though, who would reach out to take his hand or pull his arm around her. He was getting used to it and would at times do it himself. According to him, it would be appropriate for him to offer his arm, but nothing more. It brought once more home, how old fashioned his upbringing had been. They were working through it bit by bit. He'd already cast aside most of the more idiotic mannerisms, but she was happy that he'd kept some. It turned him from a ponce into a gentleman. And which woman couldn't appreciate a gentleman?

Said gentleman was heading her way now, glasses in hand. Smiling she took the crystal tumbler from him. He slid his arm across her back, letting his free hand rest on her hip.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Malfoy?" She asked in jest, winking. Smiling he toasted her.

"I would never, Miss Granger." After he took his sip, he licked his lips and her eyes were immediately glued to them. Theo snorted next to them.

"Do get a room? You make a bloke feel lonely." He complained mockingly. Draco rolled his eyes at Theo's antics, while Hermione chuckled.

"Speaking of, why isn't Liam here?" She asked. Sighing theatrically, Theo swirled his drink.

"He's being responsible and holding down the fort at the Serpent. Someone has to be the adult in our relationship and he's it." He winked at her, a twinkle in his eye. Hermione's laugh cut short, when she saw one of Theo's students kiss a gobsmacked James and then run off. Oh dear. She felt for the shy girl. She could only imagine how much courage it must have taken her.

Next to her, Theo shook his head, his face reminiscent.

"Ah, the follies of youth. If you would excuse me? I fear that one of my students is having a meltdown." He toasted them, downed his drink and left in pursuit of James.

"The poor girl." Hermione murmured. Draco kissed her on her head and chuckled. She poked him in the side. "It isn't funny. I can only imagine how much turmoil she's in now."

Setting his drink down, he took her hand in his to prevent further abuse of his ribs.

"I apologise, darling. But it is a bit humorous. It reminds me of simpler times. When your hands would go sweaty at the mere thought of talking to a pretty girl. Asking her out. Sneaking to a broom cupboard after hours to make out."

Hemione set her own drink down and took his other hand, stepping closer and slightly swaying with him to the slower song playing. She affected a scandalised expression.

"Sneaking off after hours? Is that right."

Grinning he pulled her closer.

"Look who's calling the kettle black. As if you never did that." He joked, but when she wouldn't meet his eyes, he stopped them. Softly he tilted her head so as to be able to see her eyes. "You never...? Not even with Weasley?" He whispered. Blushing she shook her head. It was silly. She was a grown woman, but somehow the fact that she'd never snuck off with a boy to snog in a closet had her self-conscious. It catapulted her back to the time when no one noticed that she was a girl. They only saw a friend, a portable library slash tutor and only remembered she was female when 'boy things' were going on or they needed advice for their girlfriends. At night, when her dorm mates talked about their escapades she felt left out and affected indifference, but deep inside, she'd hoped that Ron would at some point find the courage to actually do something as stupid as snogging in a broom closet.

"That won't do." His voice and the tug on her hand as he stepped away pulled her from her musings. Confused she looked up. He led them to one of the doors, opening it for her and waving his hand at Blaise, who smirked and made a shooing motion with his own hands.

"Where are we going? Draco! We have to supervise." Hermione protested half-heartedly. Deep inside her a desperate hope and suspicion grew about what he was planning. Looking over his shoulder, she couldn't help but giggle at his devious smile.

"Let's break some rules, Miss Granger." Reaching out, he opened a random door, pulling her inside. It was a cramped linen closet filled with shelves holding the table cloths for the restaurant and meeting rooms. A small overhead lamp was the only source of light. That was about all Hermione could take in, before Draco had her shoved up against the shelves, stepping close. Within seconds her pulse was racing. Painfully aware of every inch of them touching and the scant space between them filled with a delicious tension. Her eyes fastened again on his lips, licking her own in reflex; remembering the texture, the taste of him. And wanting it again. Her hands had landed on his shoulders for balance, but started roaming almost immediately. His light shirt offered her the rare opportunity to explore and feel the firm muscles underneath. Feeling them now, she imagined what he would look like without it, what he would taste like. What they would look like as he moved. Sighing, she bit her lip, her stomach clenching.

Groaning he closed the space between them. He always had to restrain himself when she bit her lip like this. Not now. Did she have any idea what she did to him every time? The moment their lips met, she opened for him with a mewl of desire. He did this to her. He was giving her this pleasure, was making her surrender so sweetly. It had his chest swell in pride. As her hands slid over his chest and shoulders, he kneaded her hips. He wanted to touch her more intimately but wouldn't take anything she wouldn't offer of her own accord. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long.

Breaking their kiss, she looked at him, both their eyes heavy lidded, their breathing ragged. He swallowed, as she took his hand from her hip, sliding it up her chest. He was torn between keeping eye contact and the sirens call of the sensations from his hand. His inner battle was decided, as he cupped his hand around the firm weight of her breast. His air left him in a rush on a groan, his hand flexing as if on instinct. No conscious thought behind the action. Only the simple desire to feel, to caress. The supple weight filled his hand almost to overflowing. Her breath hitching had him look up. Their faces close enough that they stole each other's breath. He wanted to see her react to him. Wanted to watch and learn what brought her pleasure. Growing bolder, he firmly flexed his hand, letting her feel his strength. He could feel her stiff nipple and traced his calloused thumb over it. All the time he kept a close eye on her face, her eyes. A small moan crept past her lips. It broke his self-control into pieces. Lunging, he caught her lips in another hot kiss, his left hand continuing their purposeful massage of her breast, while his right grabbed her spectacular arse and pulled her hips closer. She moaned again into his mouth, matching his fervour with her own. Her hips undulating, promising pleasure. His calculated caresses to find out what she liked, to learn what brought her pleasure was swiped away by her eager reciprocations.  
Both fumbled at the other's clothes; needing to be closer. Movements they'd done with lovers before and executed flawlessly like opening buttons or pulling shirts up, were now only done halfway. They were too eager. All experience forgotten. He tried to insert his leg between hers, but her skirt was too tight. Grunting in annoyed desperation, he pulled back from their kiss. Not that he wanted or it was easy, as she followed him.

"Are you fond of the skirt?" He rasped. Confused she shook her head, trying to pull him back in. "Good." He growled, gripping the skirt on one side and ripping it at the seam. The loud tearing of fabric excited her. She'd wanted to see him lose his cool mask and there it was. Draco would normally never do this, but now he did. Because he was desperate; for her. Gripping his face in her hands, she dove back in, slinging her leg around him and pulling his hips in. He met her with equal fervour, grabbing her behind and lifting her. Sliding her hands over his shoulders, she decided that she wanted to see more of him. She fumbled at his chest, trying to find the buttons of his shirt. She had tugged at his shirt and now it was all crooked and the buttons not where she thought they'd be. Her fingers slipped through the two sides of the shirt, feeling enticing smooth chest below. Then she felt a bump on his chest. Following it with her finger, she noticed that the skin there was smoother than the rest. Before she could investigate further, he pulled her hand away, entwining their fingers and lifting it above her head. Trapping it.

"I want to see you." She breathed in feeble protest, as his mouth moved along her neck.

"Later." He grunted. She couldn't see what he was doing at the crook of her neck, but it felt amazing.

"Okay." She relented easily on a sigh, burying her other hand in his hair, holding it close. Gasping, she stretched as his hardness made contact with her. It sent an electric shiver through her entire body. The muscles in her stomach quivered and tightened. So long. It had been so long. Sighing in mindless pleasure, she rode him. Her eyes closed, enjoying the sensations of his mouth, his hands. Small moans slipped through her lips from time to time. The idea of being caught sent a thrill through her.

"Yes. Take your pleasure." He rasped into her ear, those magical fingers of his once more on her breast. He had undone most of her blouse's buttons and had more direct access. The callouses on his hands heightened the sensations and the slight rasp whenever he moved over her nipple had her gasp. Their kisses had turned deep and sloppy. His lips moved down her neck again. Lower. Her breath hitched, when that hot mouth closed over her painfully hard nipple through her bra.

"Draco." She keened, out of breath. With a growl his hips snapped forward, grinding into her, shooting hot tension up her spine. They were lost in each other. All pretence fallen away. Only reaching that pinnacle mattered now. Biting her lips, she tried to be quiet, holding his hair tight. Their rhythm sped up, his eyes once again meeting hers, his open mouth having her open her mouth as well. Their lips almost touching. Strangled sounds of pleasure issuing between them, as both attempted to remain quiet. Shivering, she closed her eyes, as he continued to hit **that** spot, sending waves of hot, sultry energy through her. Flexing her hand in his and fumbling with her other, she tried to pull him closer.

"Draco…I…I can't…" She whispered breathlessly. A deep moan worked its way up her. Before it could slip out, he kissed her. Moaning into him, she let go. Riding him and when she felt the vibrations of his moans, she tightened her legs around him. Everything fell away and her body was clenched tight. Pulling away from their kiss, she bit into his shoulder, groaning deeply as her entire body shivered. As the wave broke and it rippled through her, again and again, as he continued moving. Burying his head at her neck, his hips lost their rhythm into jagged thrusts.

"Hermione." She heard him growl. Floating in bliss, she smiled, caressing his head. Hiding in closets with Draco was amazing.

 **AN:** Fifty chapters in! Wohooo! :P Thanks to all of you for the great reviews and support. Please tell me of there's something off or wrong, as I always want to improve my writing. I hope you will continue to enjoy and have a great one!


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